


A Thousand Suns, but I need One

by Sun_Effect



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: AI Feels, Andromeda Book, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biotics, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Default Male Ryder, Developing Friendships, Existential Angst, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Male Love, Passion, Poker, Poker Nights, Romantic Fluff, Self-Doubt, Self-Loathing, Slow Burn, Strip Poker, Survivor Guilt, Taking liberties with biotics, just like in the game, mostly - Freeform, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 99,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sun_Effect/pseuds/Sun_Effect
Summary: Scott Ryder has always been a dreamer. His life has been turned upside down these last few years but that doesn't stop him from wanting to move on to greater things. Gil Brodie is a spacecraft engineer and top-level poker player who loves what he does but is getting tired of the same old routine.They each decide to hit the reset button in their lives, to find new purpose and adventure, explore uncharted worlds, and make amazing new discoveries. What neither of them knows however is that they’ll find something even greater.They’re about to learn firsthand that the heart has its own event horizon, and that once you cross it there is no turning back. And if on the other side lies the one thing you never knew you needed, well...





	1. Balefire

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is my rendition of the Scott-Gil Romance in Mass Effect Andromeda. First off, some context about why this fanfic is happening:  
> I genuinely loved Andromeda. Despite its many, MANY flaws, I had a blast with it, and loved the new crew as much as I had the old one. This of course very much included Gil. 
> 
> Having said that, the romance was extremely underwhelming for such a loveable character. It took what felt to me like a MILLION YEARS to even start (maybe because I was doing every sidequest under the sun *shrug*), and there were so many half-assed conversations and untapped potential scenes with the story of those two by the end that it physically pained me. 
> 
> I decided I would write fanfic whenever I sat down to replay the game to fill in my headcanon, and hopefully share it with other people who want the same. I've been writing for four days straight! 
> 
> We kick things off with a Gil perspective chapter, and a chance meeting.

**Two weeks before the Initiative's launch**

The three opening cards were lying on the table. A Jack of Hearts, a Queen of Spades, and a 3 of Clubs.

His own two cards went face down as soon as he drew them. Gil turned up their corners and took a quick peek at them for a brief second, memorized what they were, then put them back down. A Jack of Diamonds and 3 of Spades.

 _Two-pair already_.

A very good start. He looked over the table at Vetra. Her eyes moved from one card to the other, then down to the table. Unblinking, she lingered on the 3 a little too long and her mandibles twitched.

_Eyeing up the 3 of Clubs. So she’s got the 3 of Spades or Diamonds then. Or both._

That put a slight damper on his chances, but he wasn’t worried. There were still three cards to go.

“Check” she said.

“Check” he replied, and put down the next card from the top of the pile. 9 of Spades.

It got a not-too-long, but again unblinking look from Vetra.

_Possibly useful but not quite? That was an odd one. Unless…_

“Check” Vetra said again.

Gil looked at the 9 of spades for a long, drawn-out moment. He also took note the Queen of Spades in his peripheral vision, his eyes never visibly moving from the 9.

_Ah, I see._

He pushed his chips in. “Raise. 300.”

The turian looked at him through her visor. Then she pushed in her own.

“Call, 300.”

The final card went down. Jack of Spades.

_Oh boy, it’s a party in the **house!**  _

He wanted to laugh with joy, but of course that was a big no-no. He let out a quick but subtle *sigh* instead and saw - again via peripheral vision - Vetra’s eyes shift upwards in a flicker of a movement. She hadn’t outright looked at him, but she’d definitely noticed.

_Good. And now, showtime._

Gil pushed in another big chunk of his chips.

“Raise, 900,” _and_ _let’s see if we’re right about this._

She looked at him with a wry smile.

“You’re bad at bluffing pretty boy. Raise, 1800”

Again, he had to stop himself from laughing. The blind bet was 200, then he’d raised 300, and she’d put up another 1800. This was pretty much everything she’d won thus far. He did consider folding, cos’ he didn’t want her to catch on and leave the table in a sour mood. But if he was a betting man (and he was), he’d bet that she’d probably consider it a lucky win.

“Call.” He pushed 900 more chips in to top up his and match her 1800.

She looked taken aback for a moment, but then confidently lowered her hand to reveal her cards.

A 3 of Spades - as expected - and a King of Spades. _Heh, fair enough._

She spread out her hands.

“King-high-flush, baby!”

He lowered his own.

“Full house, darling” he said with a flair and began dragging the pile of chips over to his side.

She puffed out a sigh then turned to him and nodded.

“Well look at you getting lucky!”

“I know right?” he chuckled.

Vetra was quite good at poker. Far from the best Gil had ever played with, but good enough to be an enjoyable challenge. If he had to classify her, he’d place her in the ‘medium-high(ish)’ skill category.

Her main problem was that she didn't cover most of her tells. It’d taken him twelve hands to scout her out. He’d lost eight of those, but of course she didn’t realise that they weren’t really lost. He’d won something from her in every single one of them:

Her eyes would linger on cards on the table that weren’t useful to her as her brain was processing the hand and the odds; She'd blink more than usual when her hand was mediocre or bad; she nearly didn’t blink at all when she had a strong one; And the biggest one, was when she’d give a small-but-sharp sigh from her nose when she got a hand made by a card that fell. Every time.

To her credit she also avoided pretty much all of the other rookie ones, like twitching or looking away from him when he stared her down, if she had a good hand and didn’t want to give it away. But he had more than enough to go on already, and it was all filed away in a ‘Vetra’ folder in his head.

All in all, she had no chance. Gil Brodie was on a poker level all of his own compared to most people, her included. She was an enthusiast, he was a _virtuoso_. Ok, maybe he was being a little cocky, but it wasn’t just bragging. He’d already had her fully mapped out. She’d held her own up til’ now, and actually seemed to pick up on **his** tells. They were tells that he was feeding her on purpose, but she did pick them up.

Gil had ironed out his real tells years ago. His bread-and-butter nowadays was assessing his opponent and whether **they** could pick up on that kind of thing, then feeding them false information. It was what he enjoyed the most about playing poker with pro-skilled and semi-skilled players. Being three steps ahead of the opponents, while they thought they were two steps ahead of him, was a rush all of its own.

His tactic was almost immaculate. Whenever he'd play a new opponent, the first 10-20 rounds were always oe hundred percent dedicated to what he called **scouting**. He counted those hands as… investments. Unless he held a very strong one and could easily lure them into betting against him, he would often lose on purpose. This lulled them into a false sense of security and usually relaxed them enough for their tells to start slipping through. It happened surprisingly quickly when people thought you were all talk and not a real threat. And until he hit the tables, Gil was always up for big talk.

There was also another benefit to losing those first hands. When someone felt that they were having a winning streak and were riding the high of victory, they were way more likely to want to bounce back after a few losses, and bet more than they should on that effort.

But of course, even though the gist of all this was simple, the execution was anything but. It had to be done in _just_ the right way, always changing based on the skill of the opponent. It was like an elaborate play in which he directed every stage:

First the _introduction_ , starting from the first moment he started talking about poker, boasting about how brilliant and undefeatable he is. Funnily enough this stage was made of unfiltered truth, no tricks or deception. It was the reason why Gil did not consider himself a _hustler_. He warned them, and they still wanted to play.

Then came the _complication_ , the moment people would actually take him up on it and they’d sit down to play. At that stage he was still an unknown quantity to them, so they might be slightly wary.

Next up was the _turning point_ , after he completed his scouting, where he’d have them fully mapped out while they considered him just another loud-mouth who was no threat at all.

Then the _consequence_ , where he actually used what he’d learned to start winning, but juuust enough to make back his losses without having them walk away.

And finally, the _conclusion_. Where they’d slowly but surely lose two-to-five times as much as they started with, and probably realise his boasting had been one hundred percent justified.

That last one is where Vetra was right now. _Dancing to the piper’s final tune._

They played nine more hands. Gil lost just about enough when it wouldn’t hurt him much in order to keep her sweet, but ultimately won three times his original pot.

“I think that’s about enough” he said after the ninth game. Despite having met her rather recently he liked Vetra and didn’t want to bankrupt her. She’d already lost everything she'd come here to bet from the looks of it. Plus the challenge was gone. Anything beyond this would be taking candy from a baby.

“One more” she said and wiggled her eyebrows. _Do Turians have eyebrows?_   Well, she’d wiggled her forehead. “All or nothing.”

He frowned. All-or-nothing was a... weird thing to ask for in gambling circles. It didn’t really benefit the one who was ahead and came across a little desperate from the one who had lost. It was usually the last ditch effort of gambling addicts, and Gil had seen many of those. He really hoped he hadn’t been taking advantage of an addict all this time. That would suck, big time.

As with most things, a reaction to the question could tell him a lot, so he asked.

“Vetra are you…” he started, trying to be diplomatic, “Do you have a gambling addiction?”

She tilted her head to the side and pushed her lips in a downward smile. _Do Turians have lips?_   Well they moved like lips. Her eyes however looked genuinely amused.

“Really?”

“Well all or nothing is –“

“Gil, I **don’t** have a gambling addiction. I don’t really need the money anyway" she shrugged. "You _know_ I can afford to lose. I just enjoy playing and winning against someone decent. And you’re clearly… decent” she said pointing to the pile of chips on his side. Gil chuckled.

“Young lady, to a player like me ‘decent’ is an insult. And I will win whatever you’ve got left for that” he said teasingly and started to shuffle the cards. “What’re we playing for?”

Vetra smiled.

“What have you heard about the Andromeda Initiative?”

***

**Eighteen hours before the Initiative's launch**

The atmosphere was incredible. There was loud music, nearly endless alcohol, low lighting and people. So many people. The Andromeda pre-launch party was well underway when he arrived.

It made sense that everyone would want to have one last celebration in their home galaxy, but Gil wasn’t sure that having it the day before the big journey was a good idea. The hangovers for most of them would be severe. Then again he wasn’t the one organizing anything, so it wasn't his problem to solve.

He sat at the bar.

“Orange Vodka please” he said to the Turian barman. The guy nodded his head and started putting it together.

He wanted to go look for Jill, but it’d take forever to find her in here. The venue was very big, almost like a small stadium, and it’d been rented out _privately_ for this very reason. Bars had been set up in multiple sections throughout the venue to serve the tens of  thousands of people that were to join the Andromeda Initiative as well as their friends and family.

_Andromeda…_

He couldn’t believe his lucky stars. Gil Brodie, the little orphan street kid. Who’d gotten to be an Alliance mechanic just because he enjoyed putting stuff together and taking them apart again. He was about to go to a whole new galaxy to be part of the next frontier of spacefaring. His stomach was a mix of enthusiasm and nerves.

 _Thanks to my lovely Turian friend, and her bad gambling decisions_.

The barman handed him his drink and he tapped his Omnitool to pay for it. He made to get up, but felt a hand on his back.

“Hey mister!”

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear! Or rather, think of the devil in this case.”

“Aww here I was, assuming you’d be thinking of me as your guardian angel” she said with a fake sad smile. “Especially considering how excited you seemed to be about Andromeda.”

“You can definitely be both, in **my** mind.”

“I’ll take that. So, how are you feeling?”

“About Andromeda? A little nervous if I’m honest.”

She seemed intrigued at that. “Have you got a lot of stuff tying you down here?”

“Ha, the opposite actually” Gil chuckled.

“Then why are you nervous? You’ve already got an assignment right?”

“Yea, and that’s part of what’s making me nervous.”

She looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to explain. He thought for a second trying to phrase it in his head, before saying it out loud.

“Andromeda is meant to be a new start, right? So, like a blank slate.”

“Yea, and?”

 “And, I exchanged your clearance for a place for me and Jill, but my assignment is in spacecraft engineering and maintenance. Which means, I’m still gonna go to Andromeda to do the same thing I’ve been doing here. And so is Jill more or less, although for her it’ll be a little more interesting. Her work will literally determine the future of the whole galaxy.”

“I still can’t get over this Gil and Jill thing you guys have going on”, Vetra shook her head, smiling faintly, and Gil huffed a laugh. “Gil, we’re going to Andromeda to establish a Milky Way colony, more or less. We need people who know their shit, if we want it to be successful. So we’ve gotten the best of the best, to do what they’re best **at**.”

“Yea, I know…”

“Plus I thought you said you really enjoyed what you do for a living. Isn’t that why you don't want to live off poker?”

“I do enjoy it, I genuinely do, don’t get me wrong… I'd just want to do it and have a bit of… ‘adventure’ at the same time. I’d really hate to get stuck in a launch base in Andromeda doing this job for the rest of my days. That’s what I felt would happen here.” he replied, looking down at his drink.

“Ah, I see what you mean. Well, tell you what. If I come across assignments that need your specific expertise - which thankfully is quite extensive - I’ll put a word in for you, see if I can get you transferred. Sound good?”

Gil's face lit up. It sounded great, and she was rewarded with his best smile.

“Mwah! My guardian angel!” he said as he gave her a peck on the cheek. _Do Turians have cheeks?_ Well, he'd kissed it anyway. “I’ll owe you if you pull that off.”  

“Technically you **already** owe me, cos’ I’m the reason you’re here in the first place.”

“Nuh uh uhhh”, he waved a finger left and right in protest, “I won that clearance fair and square from you young lady!”

“If that Ace hadn’t dropped –“

“I would’ve beaten you with the two-pair Queens anyway.”

That earned him the finger, but he continued:

“And since I **won** your clearance, how the hell did you manage to still stay part of the Initiative anyway?”

“Yea, about that… you know that anonymous buyer who exchanged the clearance for yours and your friend’s ‘place’ in Andromeda?” Vetra shrugged casually.

His eyes went wide with surprise. “Shut! Up! No way!”

She took out a holo-chip card from her pocket and waved it at him.

“Favors are easy for me to pull."

"Why didn't you just bet me the positions in the first place?"

"Cos' then it'd look like there was no risk on my part."

"Ha, you are craftier than I thought!"

"So, like I said, you owe me already mister.”

He laughed and raised his glass for a toast, and her eyes widened. She looked offended.

“Goddamit with all the chatter I forgot to get a drink. This is unacceptable!” she said, feigning outrage.

Raising her hand, she signaled the barman and ordered a drink, pointing to a bottle behind him. The Turian looked at what she was pointing to and nodded with a wry look. He poured it, then came over and put the glass on the bar in front of her, but didn’t let go of it.

“Refills for you and your friend are on me tonight sweetheart” he said and winked at her.

“Hmm, much appreciated” Vetra said as she smiled and reached for the glass, deliberately brushing her fingers over his. The barman smiled back at her as he let go of it and walked off to serve another customer.

“Vetra Nyx, you saucy minx!” Gil rhymed teasingly.

“Mmm, and that man is a fine morsel.”

“Should I be offended that he immediately assumed I wasn’t competition?”

“Gil, you literally just gave me a kiss on the cheek. Even the shot glasses would realize you’re not straight.”

“Fair enough.” he shrugged. “And I’ve got to say, that dual-sounding-gravelly-voice thingy that your males have going on? That does **all** kinds of things to me.”

“Hands off pretty boy, that’s my toy for the night.”

The unexpectedly competitve remark made him laugh.

“Look at **you** getting all catty! Vetra Nyx you little lynx! _”_ he rhymed again. “Don’t you worry I’m not after that kind of thing. Didn’t realize **you** were.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Well, this **is** our last chance to have some dirty fun in the Milky Way. You should take a look around, there’s plenty of candy in this big store for you to choose from.”

Gil smiled politely, but said nothing.

He didn’t do... flings, and bygone nights, with strangers. He didn’t judge anyone who did of course, it was just strictly beyond his boundaries, for his own, complicated reasons. He didn’t want to have sex just for the pleasure, with nothing else there.

But that was all too heavy of a topic for him to share during their merriment, definitely a mood killer. He raised his glass.

 “To owed favors, new friends, and new beginnings.”

“To Andromeda!” Vetra said and their glasses clinked.

This was going to be a good time.

*

**16 hours before the Initiative's launch**

The party was pretty rowdy, and progressed mostly as one might expect. Vetra had begun making out with the barman whenever the guy managed to get three minutes away from customers. As the night went on and he’d chugged a few drinks himself, the Turian seemed to give less and less of a shit about serving drinks, becoming increasingly preoccupied with exploring Vetra’s mouth. Gil had walked away to leave them to it. Free refills were cool, but he’d already had **quite** a few, probably more than he should've. Plus, viable competition or not, he didn’t wanna be the third wheel and cock-block the guy. _Do Turians have…?_

He paused.

_I’m not sure I wanna know actually._

The music was really good, and he started wandering around. Since the place was so huge, and most people wouldn’t see the DJ, they’d put up vid screens with a live feed of the DJ console scattered all around. He was Krogan, and seeing the atmosphere he was doing a great job already.

He actually managed to find Jill after only fifteen-or-so minutes of wandering - or at least that's how it seemed to him. She was on the opposite side of the bar where he’d sat with Vetra, dancing amongst a group of six other people.

“Look who it is guys!” she said to everyone around her, as if expecting them to drop what they were doing and cheer for his arrival. She came over and pulled him along to start dancing, and he gladly joined in.

He wasn’t the top dancer in the world, but he was good enough. Definitely not like one of those weirdos who’d sit in the same spot, barely moving their arms and legs. A few drinks were more than enough to get Gil to not give a shit and just go at it free style, and he was quite a distance beyond ‘a few drinks’ right now. Arm up to the ceiling, arm down to the ground, arm around his shoulders and a quick spin around.

And so the time went on in great fun, with dancing and even more ill-advised drinks. People were weaving in and out of their dance circles, either temporarily joining in or just passing through. At this point everyone was too drunk and exhilarated with their last big party in the Milky Way. No one really cared who they were dancing with, and Gil was no different. He let himself get swept up in the rhythm and just moved where it took him. Sometimes it’d be next to Jill, sometimes it’d be next to an Asari, sometimes two human girls, sometimes two Turians. All he thought about was the rhythm, and the beat, and the drinks, and the crowd.

After another... bit of time, had passed - he really had lost track - he was weaving in and out of the crowds, still dancing his way through, and took a quick look around. He’d gotten separated from Jill, but it wasn’t a problem.

Suddenly the music stopped, and people looked over at the DJ on the monitors to see what was going on. He gave a thumbs up, meaning this was intended. It was a weird thing to do with a ‘nightclub’ playlist. They were usually designed to lead seamlessly from one tune to the next, without dropping sound, cos’ it took people off their buzz.

In an instant the lights went out, plunging the arena into complete darkness. The only thing visible was the emergency exit lights around the stage and the bar.

_So that’s what he’s doing._

It was a deliberate attention call for the next beat, which meant he had something good for them. The atmosphere was buzzing, with thousands of people waiting eagerly for the tune to drop.

The lights flashed blindingly bright momentarily as the speakers started blasting.

Then, trumpets.

 **“DESTINATION UNKNOWN-OWN-OWN-OWN-OWN-UNKNOWN!”** followed by more trumpets **.**

People went **berserk.** The place erupted with cheers and dancing once again, people jumping with their hands in the air. The lights were flashing in and out, in and out, in and out, five or six times every second. The crowd was wild with excitement, with anticipation, with elation.

 _That DJ is a god,_ Gil thought, getting swept up in the celebration. In this crowd, all of them preparing to leave tomorrow for what was essentially an unknown destination, this tune was like dumping fuel on a grease fire. The speakers were rumbling, and people began singing along:

**_“I left my job my boss my car and my home, I’m leaving for a destination I still don’t know. Somewhere nobody must have duties at all, and if you like this you can follow me, so let’s go”_ **

Cheering, whistling, shouting, drinking…

**_“Follow me”_ **

Arms crossing over shoulders, hands in the air, jumping, singing…

**_“And let’s go!”_ **

Howling, stomping, uncontrolled joy, logic missing...

**_“To the place, where we belong and leave our troubles at home, come with me! We’ll be gooone! To a paaaaradise of love and joy a DESTINATION UNKNOWN!”_ **

Holding, embracing, warm tongue, kissing…

**_“-OWN!”_ **

Kissing… _Embers…_

**_“-OWN!”_ **

Kissing… _Heat…_

**_“-OWN!”_ **

Kissing… _Flames…_

It had all happened so quickly that he genuinely hadn’t had time to process it. 'Destination Unknown' was sweeping the entire place up in a relentless euphoria, Gil very much included. His arms had been going around the shoulders of the people around him as they did the same jumping up and down, up and down. And then, he’d noticed the handsome stranger to his right, with dark hair, a few strands falling in front of his face, and light blue eyes.

_The eyes…_

Endless blue eyes, like the horizon over the sea in the morning. Two orbs of blue infinity locking with his green, as they'd turned their heads and saw each other as they were jumping. The jumping stopped, their arms still over each other’s shoulder, side by side.

He'd been drawn in, like a moth to a flame, the lights still flashing all around them, the music on full blast. Before he knew it, they'd  were no longer side by side, but facing each other. Both of his arms had gone around the guy’s shoulders and his were around Gil’s waist, as they'd started kissing.

No, not kissing.

_This…_

This was so much more than kissing, or making out. A new term would have to be invented for this. Gil had had his experiences, and while he didn't sleep around, he’d done this enough to know what passion felt like.

You could only have called it ‘kissing’ for the first five seconds or so. Their lips had met, reluctant at first, each testing the waters and the limits of the other’s willingness. But once they figured out that said willingness was there, there was no reason to hold back anymore.

And it was like they’d combusted.

Gil’s mouth had opened on its own volition, the stranger’s tongue slipping past his teeth and meeting his. Entanglement was imminent and they met in a rolling and caressing and passionate dance, so much better than any real dance he’d experienced in his life.

It was as if their tongues were trying to close the void between them. To meld, to become one, to fuse together. They’d both push each other in the most delicate - yet forceful - way. They were in perfect sync, like a choreographed wrestling match. One would push in and the other would be sturdy but gently give way and roll under its partner, then push back up to meet the other and roll over it, with it, through it, in a wave of passion and hotness.

Their bodies weren't even rubbing against each other, just touching, all their energy focused on that kiss, and Gil was already rock hard from it. And he wasn't the only one.

_This…_

It was like fire in his gut, in his loins; like the finest whiskey in the back of his throat; like he’d been in a blizzard and had just discovered a flask of cognac in his jacket. It lit him up from the inside in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

_Or ever, come to think of it._

_This..._

_Nothing like this._

In that singular moment, he felt absolute clarity. The alcohol didn’t even register in his brain. It was like all of his sensory input had been dedicated one hundred percent to this experience, this man, this _fire_.

What had his fantasy book called it, that one, special kind of fire…?

_Balefire!_

_He’s pure Balefire, and I’m going to burn alive and be erased from the tapestry of existence itself. And I don't even care.  
_

 

Slowly, torturously, they broke off and pulled back, eyes and arms still locked. The lights were still flashing black and white, and with every white flash he’d notice more of the man’s features. He was so unbelievably good-looking, so ridiculously handsome in every sense of the word, like he was a model or something.

But their split had left his mouth cold. Freezing. Unbearable. More importantly, it had brought the haze of alcohol back with a vengeance. He needed more of the fire; more of the clarity; more of the heat; more of this.

More of all of him.

Apparently, _Balefire_ felt the same, because he let go of Gil’s waist and grabbed him by the collar, then shoved him backwards against a wall, presumably to continue their exchange.

But they didn’t get the chance. As he was shoved up against the wall, waiting eagerly for the heat to return to his lips, he saw the stranger turn his head down to face the floor, keeping his gaze fixed there. He was obviously way too drunk, moreso than Gil it seemed, and was taking deep breaths to steady himself. He slowly let go of Gil’s collar and turned to the side then bent over, hands on his knees. Gil put a hand on his shoulder.

 _Is he about to be sick? I must be a terrible kisser,_ he joked in his head. _  
_

He wanted to do something to help him out, but he was too drunk himself to figure out where the toilets or the exit might be. The alcohol was definitely not happy with him for that earlier moment of clarity he’d stolen, because direction and spatial awareness seemed to be out the window right now. Best he could do was keep the guy out of the way of people still jumping and shoving and yelling with joy.

Suddenly, a woman appeared out of the crowd, pushing through and moving towards them.

“Is he ok? What happened?” she said and knelt down to look at the man from below.

“I think he’s hath… too much to drink”, Gil replied, his speech a little slured.

“Looks like he's not the only one” she said, giving a quick look at the hand he'd placed on the guy's shoulder. He quickly pulled it back. “Are you ok to walk?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yea, I'm fine.” He wasn't sure if it was true or if he was saying it out of awkwardness. Cos’ this situation had definitely gotten quite awkward at the drop of a hat. “I have… my friend is here, near… somewhere.”

“Ok,” she nodded, “I’ll take him outside and he'll be fine soon. Thanks for looking out for him, I was really worried.”

With that she got up, putting a hand under the guy’s shoulder to support him, then walked away with his limping form leaning on her.

Gil watched them until they disappeared in the crowd. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness and... _shame_... of those last few moments was starting to washing over him, replacing the unbelievable drug-like high of the earlier ones.

His head was in a haze, but he had enough awareness to realize and process what had just happened. He felt… very disappointed.

Disappointed in himself.

What the hell had possessed him tonight? This wasn’t him, he didn’t do this shit. Not with random strangers he’d never met and whose names he didn’t even know. After all the shit he’d seen and been through…

 _I've had so much to drink..._ he thought.

But alcohol was not an excuse, **never** an excuse for him to let go of his control this way. He was impulsive with everything else in his life and that was totally fine, but not with alcohol as an excuse and not with strangers in the night. They hadn’t even exchanged a single word for fuck’s sake. He didn't even know what the dude sounded like! And it wasn’t just that. If the guy had been up to it and wasn’t drunk out of his mind, Gil would probably have done more with him in the heat of the moment.

_That heat..._

He was still... _excited_ from their entanglement. A fresh wave of shame washed over him at that realization.

_And the woman…_

He felt sick. Had he just made out with a bi guy, or a straight guy, or a closeted gay guy or whatever the hell this man was, who’d had a girlfriend? _Maybe even a wife?_ It certainly seemed that way… What the fuck had taken hold of him?

_Blue eyes…_

_Balefire…_

_Godfuckingdamnit,_ he thought and let a sigh out through his nose, teeth clenched and jaw tight. _I'm such a fucking tool._

 _At least the girl didn’t arrive while we were making out. I doubt I could have remained standing upright if she’d decided to hit me,_ he mused.

But it wasn’t funny. None of this was funny.

He could tell that he was beyond his alcohol capacity, and was now dangerously close to the pass-out-and-wake-up-in-a-ditch category. That was good, at least. Going by past drunken experiences, that meant his memory of the night would probably be gone by tomorrow morning.

He looked down at his hands. He thought for a single moment that maybe he should write all this stuff down, that maybe he didn’t want to forget a guy like that, a kiss like that...

But not only could he not write down his name to save his life right now, he also knew he shouldn't. He was feeling guilty, and for Gil to feel guilty that meant he'd done something that he considered wrong. He shook his head again and got his thoughts in order. There was no point, and it was fucked up anyway. His shame at having gone that far, with a stranger, who’d had a girlfriend - or wife or whatever the fuck - made his stomach clench again.

Forgetting would be for the best. It’d definitely happen with this much alcohol in him, no doubt about it. He set off to find Jill. Hopefully she'd be near where he'd left her. Which was... where?

Oh well, he'd look. If he did find her and she was in a reasonable condition, maybe he could have a couple more drinks and pass out, just to make sure that his mind would oblige him. And then, somewhere quiet to sleep, for his last night in the Milky Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And first chapter is done! Had to brush up on my poker skills for this one, it's been a while. Schedule stuff and some more info below. 
> 
> Note 1:  
> My goal is to make a fic that can be read alongside the playing of the game, just as I'm doing while writing it. However keep in mind that quite a few things/events will change depending on whether I feel writing about them flows better with other sections. Moreover, we'll have a few mentions of the Andromeda Nexus Uprising book events, and many Gil perspective chapters, because I want to explore the character a little. I don't know if there'll be as many as Scott's since he's not a squadmate :( and thus his work on the Tempest would be quite boring to read about. Then again, maybe more stuff will happen to the Tempest than the game shows, who knows (I kinda do)
> 
> Note 2:  
> This is my very first fanfic, and it's looking like it's gonna be QUITE big, which is great! In terms of plans I will post updates every two weeks, with a few extra days leeway for proofreading, editing etc. So the posts gaps should be up to three weeks in total, unless I go on holiday or something in which case I'll let people know at the end of the last chapter. I’ll be trying my absolute best to avoid any big slowdown (unless I'm seriously ill/injured or any other real emergency happens), cos' I work much better with a schedule that I can make into a habit. Plus it makes me a little sad when that happens with fics I follow and enjoy so I want to avoid it when I can (of course everyone’s life and schedule is different so it’s understandable)
> 
> Note 3:  
> There's some explicit heat in here, but this is the hottest we'll be getting for quite a long time, since this is very much a slow-burn fic. So I hope you enjoyed that :P
> 
> Note 4:  
> In case you're wondering, the pre-launch party is official canon from the Andromeda Nexus Uprising book, and even though it doesn't give details, it's heavily hinted that it was a WILD one.
> 
> Note 5:  
> Song in the club scene is a very well known Dance song but in case you don't know and want to hear it here's a link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQw8a-DW1j4
> 
> Note 6:  
> Any and all feedback is very much welcome! I'd like to know what you liked and what could use improvement from all you lovely fanfic connoisseurs & authors.
> 
> Note 7:  
> I'll post the second chapter tomorrow since it's late and I need to proofread it a few more times to make sure I'm happy with it. Keep in mind chapters will shift perspective irregularly, whenever the story calls for it. 
> 
> Note 8:  
> Last, but not least, before I stop rambling, I'd like to give a couple of shoutouts to two Mass Effect fics that have moved me beyond words, and were the main works that inspired me to write my own:
> 
> 1\. The Difference between the sea and the sky by Bagog (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4029967/chapters/9061336)  
> 2\. Sentinel by Tovaras (Ongoing - http://archiveofourown.org/works/439568/chapters/749357)
> 
> They're both genuinely fantastic pieces of fanfic literature and some top notch MShenko stuff, so go read them! Sentinel especially, it's so fucking good that it's totally worth starting it even knowing it's unfinished, just trust me.


	2. The Great Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil deals with the aftermath of last night's events, and heads off for the Andromeda galaxy, ready to face the unknown.

** 4 hours before the Initiative's Launch **

He heard a voice in his sleep, out in the distance. He was feeling calm and relaxed, wrapped in something comfortable that covered his body in warmth. He had no idea what the voice was actually saying, what it wanted, or who it belonged to. It came from somewhere very far away, and seemed to be trying its damnedest to pull him out of his sleep. All he knew was that he had to stop listening to it, **had** to resist it. For some reason, that was of the utmost importance. 'Not waking up' needed to become his number one goal in life. He knew he would regret it bitterly if he woke up, even though he had no idea why.

_Someone will probably die if I wake up. Yea, that’s definitely it. Someone is going to die a horrible death. I can’t let people die!_

“Gil!” said the voice growing stronger.

_Begone siren!_

“Gil, c’mon, it’s time.”

_Damn you! I’m sorry person, whoever you are, I couldn’t protect you... She’s won._

He opened his eyes.

The first thing that hit him was the light. Bright and blinding light, like someone had just held a flash grenade to his face. He shut his eyes again quickly and put his hand in front of his eyes. He slowly slid them open while at the same time shifting his fingers, allowing the light to filter through them just a little, giving him time to adjust to the merciless brightness of the world.

“What…?” he started to say. And then he didn’t.

The headache kicked in, suddenly and unexpectedly, like a predator waiting to pounce. But no… a predator would be kind in comparison.

If the light was like a flash grenade, then the headache was a nuclear warhead, mushroom cloud and fallout radiation included. The blast came in waves, leaving aftershocks in its wake. Boom! Aftershock. Boom! Another aftershock. Boom! A third aftershock. **_BOOM!_**

It seemed like the person who was gonna die if he woke up was none other than himself.

“Ughhh…” he groaned painfully and rubbed his eyes, then looked around. The room was awash in the Citadel’s ‘daytime’ light. There were shuffling sounds coming from the bathroom opposite the bed, and the light was on.

He was at Jill’s place, naturally. Light blue walls and a white ceiling. To his right, the nightstand with that weirdly shaped lamp she had, whose base looked like a droplet. Next to it, the little potted plant he’d bought for her a few years ago, when she was going through her ‘feng shui’ phase. He was lying on her weird but comfy double bed, one of those compact ones that folded up into the wardrobe and shelves around them.

“Gil, c’mon, we’re gonna be late if you’re not up and running in 30 minutes” Jill said.

“I... for what?”

She walked out of the bathroom, standing in front of him. “Seriously, how much did you have to drink yesterday? For Andromeda! It’s time!”

That woke him up. Andromeda! Of course! The reason they’d gone to that ill-advised party in the first place was to celebrate leaving the Milky Way behind, for their 600-year trip to a brand-new galaxy.

“I think I had too much…” he said slowly.

“No kidding. Do you remember any of it?”

He tried to think, but thinking was painful. Thinking needed his brain, and his brain was not happy about being poisoned into a stupor. It was definitely taking its sweet revenge on him now. He wanted to pull it out of his skull and place it on a pedestal, then kneel on the ground to apologize to it, begging it for forgiveness. But this alcohol-laden brain had no mercy.

**_BOOM!_ **

“Ugh... most of it I think… I met Vetra, then I found you, then... dancing?” he looked at her questioningly.

“Pffft, _most of it_ , sure” she mocked. “That was like one or two hours into the party. We were there at least four, maybe five.”

“So, what happened after the dancing?”

“Fuck if I know! You disappeared on me after half an hour, and you were already pretty wasted by that point.”

“But… I found you again?”

“Nope, **I** found **you**. You were sitting against a wall, drinking out of a whiskey bottle like it was milk.”

He frowned for a moment. Seemed like he’d gotten a bit carried away.

 _"Meh, all's well"_   he thought and shrugged.

**_BOOM!_ **

He winced with pain. Ok, sudden shrugging was a bad idea.

“It was a good party,” he said rubbing his forehead, and the room spun for a brief moment – his brain definitely did not agree with the sentiment. “I was enjoying myself...”

“Up until I lost you that’s what it seemed like. But you weren’t all that merry when I found you later. You looked more like a sad puppy. Nearly passed out, rambling about the temperature being too low or something.”

“Wow, really? I don’t remember any of that.”

“Of course you don’t you idiot, you were chugging out of a bottle,” she said, exasperated. “But it was a little chilly at the venue, and you didn’t have a jacket.”

That was true, but he usually didn’t mind a little cold. He’d gotten used to that... many years ago.

“Now c’mon get up, get washed and get dressed.” she went back through the door to the living room.

He made a move to obey by sitting up and his head protested, loudly and painfully. He lied back down for a second, and suddenly realized where he’d been sleeping.

“Wow, you let me sleep in your bed?” he called to her in loud surprise.

**_BOOM_!**

another nuke of skull pain, for daring to raise his voice. He apologized to his brain silently and lowered his voice. “You never let me sleep in your bed.”

“I never let you sleep in my bed, because you toss and turn and kick in your sleep,” he heard her shout back. “But last night you were hammered out of your mind. I figured your head was gonna be enough punishment without your back contributing to your alcohol regret.” As she finished her sentence she walked back in the room, a large glass of water in her hand, and handed it to Gil. “Drink it.”

He obeyed, chugging the cool liquid down with big thirsty gulps. It felt like spring rain, falling on the barren desert that had been his mouth. His head lessened its pounding for a few moments while he drank, giving him a little bit of a reprieve, then resumed the nuclear war it had started with him as normal, the moment as he put the glass down. So the only pain-free moments he'd get would be when he was drinking water, it seemed.

He briefly wondered if they’d consider him ‘mentally unfit’ for Andromeda if he showed up with a water jug glued to his face.

“Did I not kick in my sleep yesterday then?”

“You probably did, but I wasn’t gonna take the chance. I slept on the air mattress.”

He looked to his left and there it was, on the floor. It was deflated and rolled up, ready to pack away. He felt a nearly overwhelming rush of gratitude for his friend. A painful back alongside his murderous head would definitely be Grade A torture.

“Thanks Jilly bean. Ugh, my bloody head…”

“You’re welcome, now will you get up! We’ve gotta be at the shuttle in fifty minutes.”

To his horror, Gil remembered that his own apartment was 30 minutes away in the opposite direction. He kicked off his covers and shot up, panicking.

“Fifty minutes?! Fuck, I don’t have my stuff! My travel bag is still at my apartment, and I’ve got to give the keys back to my landlady!”

**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**

Then dizziness…

_So, dizzy…_

He had no time for a hangover god damn it, he was gonna miss the launch of the Initiative!

Jill came over and put a hand on his chest, getting him to look at her.

“Hey, hey! **Chill.** A: No it’s not, it’s next to the entrance,” she said patiently, pointing towards her front door, “and B: She’s already got them. And she said to tell you: ‘ _tell him to take care because he’s a very sweet young man_ ’ she mimicked his elderly landlady’s voice. Gil looked at her for a moment trying to understand what she was implying through the haze that was his mind. Then he got it. He breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled.

“I don’t deserve you Jill Laury” he said teasingly, and genuinely grateful.

“No, you don’t, and count yourself lucky that you’d already packed up your stuff, cos otherwise you‘d be coming to Andromeda in your goddamn underpants. Now come on get ready. We’ve got a new galaxy to get to.” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Gil huffed another relieved chuckle and slowly moved towards the bathroom. The waves of pain in his head had intensified thanks to his outburst, but at least there were no sharp stabs now. Maybe if he respected the state of his brain and moved around calmly, then it was gonna cut him a little bit of slack. Maybe.

***

After 20 minutes he’d gotten fully ready, all washed and changed. He was wearing a pair of black chukka shoes, dark blue jeans, and a light blue polo t-shirt that looked quite good on him, but he wasn’t sure if it was too much. His head hurt thinking about what might be too much and what might be too little. He looked at himself in the mirror just as Jill came by, and she wolf-whistled.

“Hello, handsome!”

“Am I overdressed?” he looked at her. She was wearing jeans as well, a little brighter than his, with brown boots tucked on the inside, and a white wool sweater. “I think I might be overdressed. You look perfect by the way.”

“No, you look great dummy!” She bumped him on the shoulder. “The gay population of Andromeda colonists doesn’t stand a chance with my boy over here.”

“I don’t know why I bothered, if I’m honest. We’re gonna change into uniforms when we get there anyway, and we don't wear clothes in Cryostasis” he said.

“You never know,” Jill replied musically “Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right on the way to the Nexus.”

“Sure, and then I’ll find out he’s got a girlfriend or a wife or something.” he said dismissively, straightening his collar and smoothing his hair.

_Huh._

He paused for a moment, looking skeptical. He turned to look at her but she seemed as clueless as he was.

“Was that a weird thing to say? I feel like that was a weird thing to say.”

She shrugged.

“With the shitheads you’ve managed to land so far, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Pffft. Tell me about it. C’mon let’s head off.”

They were both ready. They walked through the bedroom door and into the living room beyond it, until they got to the main entrance. Gil grabbed his duffel bag and pushed the switch on the wall. The door slid open and he walked out of the apartment, his friend close behind. They’d be getting a bit of a head start – thanks to Jill – which was good. He really needed a strong coffee and something to eat . Something that would hopefully help his body fight the effects of the alcohol. There was no ‘cure’, for hangovers – and what a shame that was - but nutrients and liquids always helped.

She placed the keys on the small table next to the door and walked out after him. The agency that rented the apartments had asked her to leave them there. They’d probably come in and pick them up with their spare keys at some point.

Jill’s hand was still on the switch. She took one last long look at the inside of the apartment and gave a small sigh through her nose.

She seemed a little melancholic. Understandable.

“I’m gonna miss this place.”

“I know Jilly bean” Gil replied and rubbed her shoulder. “So will I. Definitely more than any of mine.”

They’d had a lot of good times in this apartment. They’d often chill at his as well, but Gil had moved three times in the last four years, so the attachment wasn’t the same. She’d had hers since they first met, and they’d made many great memories here.

 _So many…_ he thought with a smile.

It had been like their little den.

From the ‘takeaway nights’ - where they’d choose from Pizza, Indian, Asari, Chinese, and everything in between - all the way to the unfortunate and short-lived ‘cooking nights’ - where they’d pick a recipe from the Extranet and then fail at cooking it, since they both sucked at that.

From the hour-long chats about current, past, and future relationships, to the days spent consoling one another after heartbreaks, accompanied by hours of crying, and movies, and drinks.

From the ‘movie nights’ to the ‘fantasy book nights’.

Ultimately, it had also been the place where they’d held endless conversations about their lives, that ran well into the night and the early hours of the morning. About all the things each of them had gone through and how they’d come to be where they are, as well as where they’d like to go. The ups and the downs, the hardships that sometimes seemed endless and the hope that eventually broke through. Where Gil had spoken out loud, for the first and only time, about the street life, the gambling rings, the scum, and the criminals…

 _Fuck that noise,_ he thought and pushed all that out of his still-pounding head. Jill’s apartment was a place with happy memories, and there was no point dredging up that shit now. He’d focus on the good stuff.

“We’ve had a great time here.” he said. Jill nodded.

“Let’s do the same where we’re going, yea?”

“Deal”

She closed the door and they walked away together, leaving one last piece of their past behind.

***

Gil would have liked to grab some proper food, maybe at Apollo’s, but there was no time for that. They had 10 minutes before the shuttle was supposed to leave. Thankfully they’d found a café nearby and he managed to grab a sandwich and a double cappuccino as they headed to the shuttle.

Their duffel bags were strung over their shoulders, containing just the necessities: Clothes, some work uniforms, and a few personal items. The Initiative had strict rules on the weight and the “kind” of stuff they could bring along with them, so they’d had to get them vetted. Thankfully there had been no problem with the four things he wanted to bring along. The datapad which contained his _Wheel of Time_ (and other fantasy) books, a printed picture of his first visit to the Citadel, his poker set, and the most important one…

 _Lucky Blue,_ he thought smiling to himself, and biting into his sandwich.

Lucky Blue was Gil’s very special, blue colored poker chip, with the number 1000 on it. He’d gotten that for the first 1000 credits he’d earned at the tables all on his own, without the… ‘sponsors’… he’d had before. He had purposefully never cashed it in, and had kept it safe ever since. The originally vivid, bright blue color had slightly faded over the years, but the chips in that casino had been made with a compound alloy, so Blue was strong and sturdy.

Gil didn’t exactly believe in good luck charms, he wasn’t a superstitious fool. Lucky Blue was more like a source of strength for him, a symbol. A reminder of the fact that he was now - and forever - his own man. It signified that Gil Brodie had the power to make his own luck, and would never again have to rely on others to survive. It made him feel strong, and in control of his own destiny. All in all a very good thing to have.

They reached the shuttles and boarded the nearest one, its destination marked only as “Initiative”. It had ten seats, positioned in two rows facing each other along the walls of the vehicle. He and Jill sat down, and within ten or so minutes their shuttle had gotten full, all the seats taken.

From the looks of things he wasn’t the only one who had gone a little too far yesterday. One guy was leaning forward, holding his face in his hands. A very built and strong-looking lady was trying to make the alcohol go away by massaging her temples. She looked like a marine. Probably was. A Turian next to her had a big bottle of water in his hand, sipping every few seconds, trying to hydrate his obviously tortured body. At least Gil **thought** it was water, he didn’t know if Turians drank water. He made a mental note to ask Vetra next time he met her, and sipped some of his coffee.

All in all, from what he could see, most of the passengers had hangovers as bad as his or worse. The only exceptions were a Salarian next to him and an Asari, two seats down. He looked at the two with envy, especially the Asari.

Normal people got 12-36 hour hangovers. Salarians had a higher metabolism and didn’t get long hangovers, but they paid for that by living 40 year lives, which was fair enough. But Biotics?

 _Biotics are downright bloody cheating_ , he thought.

He still remembered being shocked when he read that post on the Extranet about biotics not getting hangovers. It wasn’t fair that a randomly assigned _ability_ had such an insanely useful side-effect. He wasn’t clear on details, but it definitely wasn’t fair. And how **did** it work? It made his inquisitive mind curious. Jill might know, her field is biology-related. Plus she was a total nerdy nerd _._

“Jill?”

She turned to look at him.“Hm?”

“Why don't Biotics get hangovers?”

“They do.” she said matter of factly.

“Do they? I remember reading that –“

“They **do** get hangovers, they just recover from them much faster.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that when Biotics reach or surpass their alcohol limit, and brain function starts to get impaired, their chip is programmed to activate. Then it automatically generates a tiny mass effect field that kick starts their pituitary gland into action and rapidly releases vasopressin.” she said.

“Vaso… what?”

“ **Vasopressin.** It’s a hormone that basically allows your kidneys to process fluids and absorb them into your bloodstream. Alcohol, as a diuretic, blocks this hormone, so your kidneys just send water straight to your bladder and into the toilet, instead of taking it into your body. So you get dehydrated, and hungover.”

“So if it’s a kidney function why do our heads hurt and not our kidneys?”

“Because, when your body is out of water it desperately tries to pull some from your brain to balance water levels in rest of your cells, since the brain has a lot of water. Your brain’s tissue then shrinks and pulls away from the skull.”

“Ugh…” he said making the image in his head. “So, headaches?”

“So, headaches.”

“I see…" he considered for a moment. "No wait. If you’re saying the chip only restarts that hormone when they’ve hit or gone over their limit, wouldn’t they still be dehydrated and have a hangover?”

“Yes, they would, and they **do**. But since the hormone is now up and running again, drinking a few glasses of water rehydrates them in an hour at most. So the hangover’s mostly gone. But alcohol still affects them like everyone else until that point.”

“So you’re saying, that they can enjoy themselves with alcohol, then can get rid of their hangovers with a glass of water.” he said and rubbed his head. “So not fair…”

“Hmmm, not exactly. Remember that automatic activation of the chip and the small mass effect field that I mentioned earlier? When they hit their limit? Well, apparently that’s… **quite,** unpleasant.”

“How so?”

She thought about it for a moment, trying to put it in simple terms. She probably thought she’d gone too technical.

“Imagine that both their brain and body are like a car, that suddenly crashes into something and stops dead. That’s pretty much what it’s like, and… they can barely move until they get rehydrated, because of the shock.”

“Hmmm. Sounds… nasty.”

“That’s what I hear” she said. “So basically they don’t get to skip hangovers entirely. It’s more like they experience a hangover’s effects but extremely intensified, very suddenly but for a short amount of time.”

“Interesting.” he said.

The people in the shuttle seemed to agree with the notion. Those who hadn’t fallen asleep were all looking at Jill, seemingly transfixed. She shifted a little in her seat under the attention.

“You’re the smartest little nerd I know, you know that?” Gil said to her, smiling.

“Well, you asked.” she shrugged.

The marine lady elbowed the Turian next to her who was holding the bottle of water.

“Hey Vectus, If you could choose would you rather get smashed by a hangover truck for an hour or go through it normally?”

The Turian pondered her words for a long moment but decided that it all sounded too risky.

“I think I’d stick with what I’ve got right now. What that young lady just described doesn’t sound like fun.”

“Didn’t realize you were having fun right now” teased the marine.

“What’s that thing you humans say? Better the devil you know?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“I’ll take _the devil I know_ then.”

Gil thought about that for a second. He wasn’t sure he agreed. If it meant suffering more but for a shorter amount of time, maybe the other one was better. He definitely was not looking forward to going through the next 20 hours feeling like this.

“Plus it doesn’t really matter. The Cryosleep will take care of this.” The turian added, knocking on his head.

Gil’s face lit up.

“For real?” he asked.

“Yep. Did you think the Initiative would start colonization in another galaxy while people were hammered?”

“I didn’t really think about the Cryosleep and waking up at all actually. Thinking’s too painful today.”

The guy chuckled. “I hear that.”

“But you’re sure this is gonna happen? We wake up in Andromeda and the hangover’s gone?”

“Pretty sure. It’s something to do with nutrients and optimal suspension states. I’d give you a long explanation of the technical tidbits like your friend did, but I can’t really recall it properly in this state.” he said. “But, I’m part of the Cryosleep technician team on the Natanus, if that helps your confidence.”

_The Turian ark._

It had to be true. It made sense, too. The Nexus was apparently gonna take a year to build after it arrived and the people who got woken up would have to start working immediately. There’d be no time for hangovers.

“That’s honestly the best news I’ve heard all day. Thanks for sharing that” he said. The turian nodded and cracked a smile.

A few minutes passed with his mind wandering, thinking about Biotics and drinking. Suddenly he registered that Jill wasn’t hungover at all. He turned to look at her.

“Did you not drink at all yesterday?” he asked.

“I did, but unlike some people I figured moderation would probably be for the best.”

“I hate the fact that you were so responsible, and I’m suffering alone right now.”

“Well, one of us had to be. Otherwise we’d both still be sleeping, missed our shuttles, and spent the rest of our lives in the Milky Way. It was clear halfway through the night that it wasn’t gonna be you, you numpty” she said and rapped her knuckles gently on his head. It hurt more than it should've thanks to the alcohol, but he didn’t complain. She’d earned this much.

“Sorry Jilly, I didn’t mean for you to feel like you should hold back cos’ of me.” he said.

“Oh, don’t you worry I had my share. Enough to get a good buzz going, but not enough for debilitating hangovers.”

He chuckled and stroked her head, fondly. It felt good to know there was someone who had his back, in this galaxy and the other. And he’d always have hers, in any way he could.

***

From what they’d been briefed on, earlier in the week, the shuttle would take them to a transport ship, which would then leave for the Nexus at approximately 1900 hours, Citadel time. The ship would then make multiple drops to different docking bays around the massive station, to drop off personnel near the Cryochambers assigned to their specific department.

And that was where him and Jill would part ways.

He’d tried to avoid thinking about that until now and she hadn’t brought it up either, but they both knew the time was fast approaching.

When he’d first told her about Andromeda and asked her if she wanted to go she’d almost jumped with joy. The chance to study genetics and procreation of species entirely foreign and unknown to anyone, had captured her imagination right away. Frankly, she’d been even more excited than he had, her enthusiasm just bouncing off of his and amplifying it.

When he’d finally exchanged Vetra’s clearance (with Vetra) a couple days later and had secured a place for both of them, they’d spent the night celebrating in her apartment, laughing and talking about the potential of the Andromeda galaxy.

  
The whole process of joining the Initiative had been quite rushed, since they got in very late, which meant the next week-and-a-half had been one of the most frantic ones in Gil’s life. Him and Jill had to go through the Initiative’s incredibly extensive screening procedures in just under a week, which was a **very** short amount of time. Then when that was out of the way, they had to settle their affairs in the Milky Way. They could’ve just packed their bags and fucked off – Vetra had mentioned that a lot of people who were fed up with this galaxy were doing just that – but that wasn’t his way, or Jill’s.

So Gil had handed in his one-week-notice at the Alliance base, and spoke to his landlady personally, telling her he had to _“leave very soon”_. He couldn’t really tell her “I’m going to the Andromeda galaxy on a whim” of course, but thankfully she’d been very understanding regardless, and had even returned his deposit.

Jill had taken care of her stuff on time as well, and when all of it was done, they’d had two days left before they had to go. That was when they’d had their assignments come through on their Omnitools, and they’d found out what they’d be doing in Andromeda, as well as a quick brief on Cryosleep. That brief also included the schedule of their wake-up procedures if things went to plan.

Gil Brodie - Spacecraft Pre-launch Engineering and Maintenance – Cryosleep awakening scheduled for 11.5 months post Initiative launch. [Adjustment margin: 0. Dependencies: None]

Jill Laury – Re-population efforts via procreation and Genetic Sciences – Cryosleep awakening scheduled for 13 months post Initiative launch [Adjustment margin: 1-15 months. Dependencies: Successful establishment of Golden World outposts].

Basically, what it all meant was that Gil would wake up in eleven and a half months, whereas Jill could wake up anywhere from thirteen to twenty-eight months later. So he didn’t really know if he’d see her again in one and a half months or in one-and-a-half years. They hadn’t really discussed the dates at length cos’ there was no point. It was what it was, and thankfully she’d be under Cryosleep, so it’d just be Gil missing his buddy for a bit.

The shuttle shuddered and came to a halt. They’d arrived at the spaceship.

One more trip together, then a little bit of sleep, before they woke up to new lives, in a brand-new galaxy.

***

** 1 hour before the Initiative's Launch **

“Gil, wake up! We’re here!”

The trip had taken nearly two hours, and he’d fallen asleep. It had lessened the effects of his hangover a little bit, but it was far from gone. That Cryosleep couldn’t come fast enough.

He got up and saw what she was looking at, outside the window.

_It’s the Nexus, in its pre-launch shape._

“It’s… wow.”

The space station was massive. Smaller than the Citadel, but a true marvel of engineering in its own right. Its wards were folded down and locked in for launch, giving off a silver gleam as they reflected the light of the nearest star. It looked like two giant silver palms closed in silent prayer, a compact shape that made sure the construct would survive the extreme 600-year journey to Andromeda, while keeping its occupants safe inside. From what few files he’d had time to browse regarding its construction, Gil had been expecting it to be impressive, but seeing it up close was a different experience altogether.

 _Breathtaking…_ he thought.

It was no wonder that people felt so strongly that Andromeda would be a new beginning for everyone who was part of it. **This** was what all the races could accomplish when they brought their ingenuity, their cooperation, their coordination and their resources together. This was the culmination of thousands, upon thousands, upon thousands of man hours, designs, ideas, hopes, and dreams. This kind of thing would never have happened for the Milky Way. There was too much red tape, and too much bad blood over the years, holding all of them back.

Gil felt a little sad that he hadn’t been part of this thing’s construction. He would have loved to have blueprints in front of him right now for each section, each ward, each corridor, each mechanism and platform. To analyze and understand how each part moved, how it sustained gravity, what powered it. He could try and guess, but putting things together or taking them apart and seeing, and mapping how they worked was way more fun than just guessing.

The spaceship got closer to the Nexus and finally arrived at the landing docks. You couldn’t see the whole Nexus from here, since the wards were obscuring the view. The station would need to “unpack” when they got to Andromeda for its construction to finish.

 _I wonder if I can rig my Cryopod to wake me up earlier so I can be part of the construction._ he thought. If he’d had some time to study the pods, he probably could’ve. But he would never have done something like that.

_Cough cough._

The announcer's voice came from the speakers: “First stop, Nexus Engineering dock.”

_So it’s time._

He and Jill got up from their seats. He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

“See you in a couple hours” he said.

That was pretty much what it’d feel like for her, thankfully.

“See you in a few months Gilly boy” she said and patted his back.

He wasn’t great with goodbyes, and he didn’t want to extend this one more than he had to. The atmosphere was already a little charged, and he was sure that if he stayed any longer he would start getting emotional. They’d meet again anyway, and it wouldn’t be too long from now.

He let go of Jill and waved her a goodbye, as he got off the ship.

Two Salarians were standing on the docking platform, with a queue of people passing through them in pairs of two. They asked each person for their specialty, then directed them toward their ‘changing rooms’ where they’d store their things, get their Initiative uniforms and get changed, then head for the Cryopods.

“Spacecraft Pre-launch Engineering and Maintenance” Gil said to the Salarian.

He checked his datapad, scrolling through a list of specialties and sections.

“Spacecraft pre-launch, spacecraft pre-launch… Ah! Here we are. Section 23D, towards the South Ward. Next!”

Gil shifted his duffel bag a little higher on his shoulder and walked along. Each section had large letters over their entrances that seemed like long hallways. He found Section 23D and walked down the corridor and into the changing room at the end.

It was a huge white and blue room, with hundreds of lockers similarly colored and stacked next to each other. It reminded him of human high schools in old movies, but much cleaner and more organized. He took a good look around. Then another.

 _It’s all lockers. Where the hell are the changing rooms?_ he thought.

He walked round going here and there, trying to see if there were other entrances or doors into and out of the room, but the changing room answer eluded him. He tried to see where others were going to get changed, but all he could see were people who already had their uniforms on.

He did notice what looked like a black ‘wall’, that was placed in front of one of the lockers next to him. It seemed very out of place.

_Huh. What an odd place for a random black wall to be._

The lockers were named in alphabetical order, so he looked around for his.

He found it after a few moments, as he saw the bright blue holotag:

Gil Brodie - Spacecraft Pre-launch Engineering and Maintenance.

He approached the locker and looked at it. It had a fingerprint scanner on it.

 _Biometrics-based then,_ he thought. He put his finger on it, and the scanner turned green, as he pulled the door open.

He jumped.

As soon as the door to the locker had opened, he’d been surrounded by a black wall from all sides, like the one he’d noticed earlier. It seemed like the locker was projecting a black ‘box’ for him to stand in, about two meters long and as wide and tall as the locker itself.

He reached out on his left side, to touch it. His fingers went through it as expected, as the wall took on a reddish hue and a beeping sound played on loop. He pulled his hand back. The beeping and the red hue stopped, and Gil smiled.

 _A hologram with border-tracking._ So lockers became temporary “changing rooms” by creating a dark ‘wall’ around the opening and obscuring light from or to the outside. If something crossed the hologram’s borders, a warning came up. A pretty cool idea. It wouldn’t work in high schools, warning or not, but amongst professionals it was a clever trick to avoid making additional facilities just for changing.

Gil put his bag in the locker and got undressed, taking off his shoes, socks, shirt, jeans, and finally his underwear. He took the Initiative uniform out of the locker and slipped into it. It fit along the lines of his body almost perfectly, but he wasn’t surprised at this point. The Andromeda Initiative people did not do anything in half measures, it seemed.

That also included speeches.

“Attention:” came a voice from the ceiling “Please turn your attention to the nearest vid screen, as Jien Garson, founder of the Andromeda Initiative, addresses the pioneers of the Milky Way galaxy” it said.

Gil turned to look at the large vidscreen in the center of the room. It switched on, displaying a feed of 8 or so people standing on a raised platform, all of them smiling, heads raised, chest high. He’d seen most of their faces in the briefing docs. Jien Garson founder of the Initiative, four pathfinders, Human, Asari, Salarian and Turian, and then the rest of the Nexus leadership. Garson was standing at the center, and shaking hands with Alec Ryder, the human Pathfinder.

She finished the handshake, then turned to the camera and began to speak:

“Today, we make the greatest sacrifice we have ever – or will ever – make,” she began.

Bold words, and quite confident.

“Many have weighed in. The gossip, the media coverage, have had more than enough to say. Some claim this plan is nothing more than an attempt to flee the galaxy we helped shape, taking our **very** expensive toys, and going somewhere else to ‘play’. Others decry our mission as the most expensive insurance policy known to any sentient species. The message I left with the arks, is the same I’m saying to you now. You are about to embark on a journey unlike anything ever attempted before. And make no mistake…” she paused for a long moment. “This _is_ a one-way trip. What all those politicians, naysayers and threats don’t understand, is that we are here, together, because we believe in something they don’t. We put our effort and our faith into something those people can’t imagine, can’t even begin to understand. In other words, **they** , are wrong. The circumstances that have led to the creation of this magnificent station are vast and varied, that much is true. We all know some of these reasons. None of us can know all of them, not even me. Yet the reasons are only part of the equation. You and I” she said gesturing to them “are the other part”.

 _Hell yea,_ he thought.

“Each and every one of us has our own reasons for volunteering to go,” she continued, “and those too are legion. Some of us feel a sense of duty. Some of us do indeed fear what the future has in store for the Milky Way. We flee our past, we seek a future. We wish to begin anew. We crave the unexplored wonders that will no doubt reshape all that we know”

Gil nodded appreciatively at the stated reasons and the fervor of her words. 

Jien Garson smiled warmly and continued:

“All these are equally valid, in my estimation, but that’s not important here. What **is** important as we depart, what I want to be sure you **all** know as you prepare to cross this ocean of time and space, is this…” she held her breath for a moment.

“None of those reasons matter anymore. **Not for us.** What matters now, for you and me, is what we do when we arrive. Who we become, and how we carry ourselves in Andromeda.”

Gil felt his heart lift at those words. They struck a chord with him more than anything he’d seen or heard about Andromeda until then, because this had been the principle tenet in his own life. Not letting any of the shit in his past determine who he was, and only concerned about how he’d carry himself as his own man. And this would be doubly true in Andromeda. There he could entirely leave it all in the dust, and be known, or judged, or loved, or hated entirely for who he’d be **in** Andromeda.

He bumped his fist to his heart twice in recognition of Garson’s words. She continued for the last part of her speech:

“We journey in one of the most incredible marvels all our species have ever created, built in a spirit of cooperation that is without precedence in our galactic history. We carry with us, collectively, centuries of culture, millenia of government, beliefs, of languages and art, incredible knowledge, and incredible sciences. Hard-won things, the result of endless work, unfathomable suffering and, most importantly, the efforts of countless billions of sentient beings over millenia, and across dozens of worlds.”

The weight of that last statement was palpable in the room.

“We carry all these things like the honed tools of an artist, to our great empty canvas. To Andromeda. We **go** ” she said intently, “to paint our **masterpiece!** ” she finished with a shout.

The room erupted in cheers, and whoops, and ‘hoorahs’, and a cacophony of stomping and fists bumping on chests. Gil nodded along, well and truly convinced that this decision had been a great one. His spirits were high and the future looked brighter than ever before.

The magnanimous words of Jien Garson were still ringing in his ears as he laid down in his Cryopod, removed his clothing, and handed it to the technician who placed it in a socket outside the device.

As the Cryopod closed and began to compress, lulling him into this 600 year sleep, he had no idea how this was all going to go, and what would be waiting for him at the end of his life in this new galaxy. But he knew that no matter what it was, he was ready.

Ready for a new sunrise, ready for a fresh start, ready for a one-way trip into the future.

Ready, to plunge into the Great Unknown.

One more sleep, and then…

_Andromeda._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that took ages! This was actually an unplanned chapter that I hadn't pre-written but I felt inspired with Gil and wanted to write some context for his and Jill's relationship.
> 
> Note 1:  
> This chapter's title is a tribute to the amazing, inspiring and heartwarming Mass Effect Andromeda song "The Great Unknown" by Miracle of Sound. I often have it playing in the background when I want to feel inspired for Andromeda. If you've never listened to it, do your ears and your heart and your soul a favor and do so (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52ZGqJJTA7k)
> 
> Note 2:  
> Yes, in case you didn't pick it up from the first chapter, Gil reads Wheel of Time.  
> Note 3:  
> If you like visual aids, this image was the inspiration for Jill's bedroom: http://www.kettledesign.co.uk/old-parts/uploads/bed1.jpg  
> Note 4:  
> Jien Garson's speech is from the MEA: Nexus Uprising Book. I was thinking of altering it, but it was too good not to include as is. Canon baby!
> 
> Note 5:  
> Thanks to everyone who read this and the first chapter and enjoyed it! As always, all of your feedback is very much appreciated.
> 
> Next chapter will be a Scott one.


	3. Rough wake-up call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Scott chapter. The Hyperion Ark has arrived in Andromeda and shit is about to get real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got a little cameo, just for fun.

Cold…

Fog…

Silence…

He’s standing in a snowy white patch, breathing calmly. Chest rising with each inhale then falling on the exhale, followed by a plume of smoke from his nostrils.

Small snowflakes, falling steadily all around.

On him.

Next to him.

Behind him.

He watches them, mesmerized by the way they fall. They seem to fall in a very… organized pattern, always maintaining an equal distance from every other snowflake around them. It’s like they’re positioned on an invisible grid; until they reach the floor, their position irrelevant, ruined by the contact. The floor, or his body.

_Body… Cold…_

Each point on his body that the snowflakes touch sends a jolt of cold through him. There are a lot of them, falling thick and fast.

_So many…_

He looks down. He’s got no clothes on, standing still and rigid in the snow. It’s an observation which he doesn’t question. It feels perfectly natural. Except for the cold.

_Cold…_

A snowflake lands on his _…_

_What is it called?_

He can’t recall the words to describe his body.

_“It’s near the top of me, between the two things I see things with…”_

_Cold…_

_“Now one near the middle section…”_

_Cold…_

_“Now two on my lowest parts, the ones that are on the ground…”_

_Cold_ …  
  
He lifts the… ‘ _part near the top’_ to look around. He can’t see very far at all. There’s a thick fog, just beyond the patch he’s standing on.

He tries to take a step forward but his _lowest parts_ won’t obey. In fact, none of the rest of his body obeys him. All he can do is stand still like a statue and look around.

He can’t hear anything at all, it’s deathly quiet.

 _“But_ s _now doesn’t really make noise”_ he thinks, so in that moment it makes sense. What should he do though? There doesn’t seem to be much he **can** do since he’s unable to move, or see, or hear. And the damn cold…

_Cold… Fog… Silence…_

_Can there be fog when it’s snowing? And shouldn’t there be other sounds like wind and…_

He feels movement, but it’s coming from somewhere else, not from him. The snowy patch starts to move under his feet, taking him along with it and the world begins to spin. He’s cold and now everything is spinning too. Round and round and round he goes. He should be starting to feel nauseous, but he doesn’t. It’s just an odd sensation, things spinning around like that.

It feels like it’s been going on forever, and doesn’t seem to be slowing down.

_“Am I trapped? Am I going to spend the rest of my days here? And where is ‘here’?”_

Suddenly, with a quick jerk that shifts him slightly forward, the spinning stops. He’s glad that it has, but he still has no clue what it was all about.

Then… there’s sound.

It’s subtle, but it’s there. A hiss, like… He can’t remember like what exactly, but he’s heard it before.

_“Something to do with air, and pressure…”_

_Cold… Fog…_

He feels shifting and movement again, and for a brief moment he thinks that the spinning is going to start all over again. He’s not looking forward to another round of spinning.

But no… the movement isn’t like before. It’s not coming from the snowy patch. He feels it **on** his body. It’s a sensation like someone is moving him around, shifting him slightly but quite gently. He’s clearly alone here so the feeling is a little unsettling.

_Is it biotics?_

The weird sensation stops before he can formulate the thought. His body is still very cold from the snow that was falling on him earlier, but it’s stopped hitting him now and he feels a tiny bit warmer.

No wait, that’s not it… it’s still snowing but…

 _I’m dressed!_ he thinks, looking down excitedly. Sure enough, he’s in his full Alliance uniform, protecting most of him from the falling snow.

And then… more sound, stronger and more vivid now. The whizzing and whirring of mechanical parts moving around, then slotting into place. It’s coming from somewhere behind him. It stops for a brief moment, then starts up again.

_Is it the relay? Am I near the station? I could send a biotic flare up in the sky. If I could only move my… those two things that I grab stuff with…_

And then, awareness.

“UUUUGH!!!” Scott gasped loudly as he shot up, taking deep breaths, feeling the oxygen filling his lungs.

 _“Cold… only a little bit of cold left”,_ he thought.

 As weird as his Cryosleep dream, or nightmare, or whatever it was had been, he’d snapped out of it on that first gasp of air and the memories were coming back to him.  Not just the dream, but where he was, and how he’d gotten here. A million thoughts were going through his head all at once filling in all the little gaps that Cryosleep had briefly left him with. As his breath steadied, he started feeling the excitement at the pit of his stomach bubbling up, and his eyes widened.

“We made it” he said in a croaked but loud whisper, looking down at his hands. It was to convince himself, because he simply couldn’t believe it. It was all well and good talking about it and imagining it, but they had really, actually made it. He was due to be woken up soon after they reached their destination, which meant they were really here!

He made a move to get up on his feet. The blood rushed to his head and he was hit with a wave of nausea, just as a man and a woman approached him. The man reached a hand out to help him sit back down.

 _Cryobay technicians_ , he realized. They seemed a little wary, the woman more so than the guy.

“Deep breaths.” he said. “You’re gonna want to take it easy.”

Scott chuckled.

“I’ve been taking it easy for 600 years” he shot back with a grin.

It hadn’t felt like that of course, even though it was true. It had felt more like a bad night’s sleep, where his body was well-rested, but had been sleeping on something rigid all night. The kind of sleep you’d get after falling asleep drunk, minus the hangover. Thanks to his chip he hadn’t actually gone in drunk, and no one else would have a hangover either, but Cryo was still not the most pleasant experience.

Nevertheless, Scott always had trouble containing his excitement and in this case, it helped. He buzzed with energy through his entire body. It made him feel ready to burst, unable to sit still and wanting to just _do something_. And if ever he had cause to be excited and eager then this was definitely it. He was in a new galaxy, a part of the Pathfinder team, and literally ready to chart the course of history. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to “take it easy”.

“Ryder, Scott, Recon specialist, Pathfinder mission team, Biotic” said the woman, shooting him a quick look. She was reading off a pad in her hand and obviously didn’t feel like exchanging pleasantries. Scott figured she must be over the initial excitement and was probably pretty tired by now, so he didn’t think much of it.

“Pathfinder team eh? The ones finding us a home.” said the man sounding impressed.

Scott smiled eagerly. This was it. It was really happening! This was the start of a dream coming true, and he couldn’t wait to experience it. His father would be the one leading them, but as part of the Recon team Scott was ready to get on the ground, make new discoveries, and prove himself worthy of being part of the Pathfinder team. Reaching a dream like this didn’t happen to him very often. In fact, until now it’d been the opposite, his dreams and ambitions getting crushed by people or events beyond his control. A small stab of anger directed at his father tinged his thoughts, trying to gnaw at the very corners of his excitement.

But he wouldn’t let it.

_This is a day for celebration and enthusiasm, not anger and resentment. We’ve left all that behind in the Milky Way. It’s a place for new beginnings, for wiping the slate clean and charting new paths, literally and figuratively. For me, for our family, and for everyone else here._

“Can you make it somewhere tropical?” the woman interjected. “Nice warm ocean? Summer year-round?”

Scott smiled broadly. That sounded like a damn fine idea right about now, seeing as he was still quite cold from Cryo. He shivered visibly for a moment, and the Technicians noticed straight away.

“How about we get him a cup of coffee first?” said the man, as the woman jotted down a note on her pad.

She nodded her head and twitched her lips in a tiny little smile, as both of them moved on each side next to Scott. They gently grabbed one of his arms each, then put it around their shoulders to steady him and help him get up and walk to the infirmary. He was about to protest that he was fine and didn’t need the help, but as he moved to get up, another wave of nausea hit him again and he felt a little faint. He’d have probably fallen on his face if they weren’t holding him, so instead of protesting he just muttered a ‘thank you’ and focused on trying to walk in a straight line.

“Don’t worry about it”, said the guy. “Each person reacts differently to coming out of Cryo. Frankly, you’re one of the best ones we’ve had all day.”

“That bad?” Scott asked, his interest piqued.

“Oh, you better believe it!” he said with a mischievous tone.

“Ugh” the woman groaned.

“From people throwing up all over the floor and the equipment, to panic attacks, to…” he chortled a little. “To an Asari Commando lady who almost broke Jane’s nose” he said waving at the woman with his free hand and trying to stifle his amusement. “In the haze from the Cryo she thought Jane was an enemy that’d snuck up on her,” he added. He was obviously trying to keep a conversational tone and not laugh, but was not being very successful.

“Yea Sean it was fucking hilarious” said Jane, shooting him a look. “I’d like to see **you** take a biotic punch to the face, see how funny it is”.

But all that managed to do was break the guy’s – Sean’s – composure even further. As soon as she said ‘biotic punch’ he snorted and started shaking with breathy laughter. To his credit he was still visibly trying not to laugh out loud. Scott’s lips twitched as well but he kept his face under control. There was only one Asari Commando in the Hyperion that he knew of.

“It was just… I’m sorry Jane, I know… but you weren’t hurt and remembering it now…” he wheezed between breathy chuckles. Jane just rolled her eyes.

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking” Scott said, curious. He had to get details on this.

She let out a little sigh.

“Nah it’s fine.” she said “Since you’re not wearing clothes in Cryo, it’s our job to dress you before you wake up, so you don’t start running naked down the hallways. I dress the ladies, Sean dresses the men. So I’d just finished dressing that lady up and called this idiot over,” she said nodding her head toward her colleague, whose amusement hadn’t abated. “And out of nowhere the crazy lady shoots up with a blue glow and sucker punches me right on the nose!” she said, her inflection rising with disbelief.

Scott turned instinctively to look at her as she spoke, and immediately regretted it, because he almost started laughing too. Her nose was visibly redder than the rest of her face, and even though there was no real damage, the spot was obviously going to be a little sore for a while. He’d noticed it earlier as well, but he’d just assumed it was a side effect from the cold temperature in the Cryopod storage room or something.

“She apologized immediately, said it was her training instincts kicking in. But, my nose was already bleeding…” she said.

That explained why they were hesitant when he first woke up, his Biotic abilities were on his file of course. He looked down at the floor and bit on his lip, to prevent from annoying the girl further. It wasn’t **her** that made him wanna laugh, but the scene of picturing Cora waking up and throwing punches in her panic, cos he could totally see her doing that. The guy had stopped laughing and was taking a few deep breaths, but his support on Scott’s arm was still a little weak. So – besides the fact that it wouldn’t be very nice – Scott figured that offending his only real support by laughing out loud was something he should probably avoid. Thankfully she didn’t seem to pick up on his mirth.

Sean quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his free hand and put his fingers on the electronic door mechanism, then twisted his hand. The door opened with a wheeze and they walked into the infirmary. They slowly set Scott down on the edge of a nearby bed, and Jane walked off towards a bench a few feet away.

“All good then? Don’t feel like punching anyone?” Sean joked.

“Nope, definitely not. Just a little cold.”

“Here’s some hot coffee to warm you up” said Jane, bringing him a cup with the steaming, fragrant black liquid. “One of the doctors will be with you in a few minutes to run some check-ups“, she added.

“Thanks”, Scott said gratefully. He turned to look toward Sean. “Both of you” he added. “I didn’t expect to need someone to carry me after such a long sleep”.

“No problem” Jane replied. “Like he said, you were definitely one of the easiest ones today”.

Sean grinned broadly at the remark, and gave a thumbs-up to Scott.

“Let’s get back” he said and motioned with a jerk of his head toward the Cryopod chamber.

Scott smiled as they walked away. He held the hot mug of coffee, his palms covering it on each side, trying to get as much heat from it as possible. The warmth was soothing. He took a light sip, trying to make sure he wouldn’t scald his tongue. That was always a bigger risk with black coffee. He took another sip.

“Hmmm, this tastes so good.” he muttered.

He actually **liked** his coffee black. He felt it helped get the full aroma through both smell and taste. The bitterness that most people didn’t like was quite welcome on his tongue. If you added just the right amount of coffee then there was only a hint of it, and it amplified the overall flavour of the drink. This one’s coffee-to-water ratio was almost perfect.

People were coming and going all around. A vidcon screen to his right was playing a video intro to the Andromeda Initiative, showing images of thousands of possible “habitats” detected from when they were still in the Milky Way. He watched with fascination as he sipped his coffee. Some looked like lush garden worlds, others looked a little more barren, but they were all places that could support life. The Initiative called them “Golden Worlds”. He’d be among the first people to go there, doing initial recon. There was so much out there just waiting for them that it was difficult not to buzz with anticipation. Just thinking that they wouldn’t know a single plant or animal on any of those planets was an almost overwhelming thought on its own.

The Citadel back in the Milky Way had had lots of plant life of course. The trees and grass you’d find on the Presidium and the Wards were specifically bio-engineered and maintained by the Keepers for the Citadel’s unique environment. As with everything the Keepers did, no one knew why they did it of course, but it filled the Citadel with beautiful greenery so it was welcomed.

But plant life wasn’t just in the Presidium. Each of the Council species had also brought flora from all the different Council worlds. It had been appropriated in the ‘Citadel Gardens’, with the Keepers maintaining it as if it’d been part of the giant ancient structure all along. They all had to be kept in separate sections that were made to emulate their planet’s habitat, since a plant native to a specific planet could only live and thrive in its own ecosystem. All the kids raised on the Citadel learned about most of these plants in the Council school academies, and sometimes even went on field trips to see them up close.

Scott smiled as he remembered his younger years in school. It had been so mind-numbingly boring back then, learning about plants. His mind was always somewhere else, be that lofty thoughts about the things he’d like to do, or smaller ones like what he’d have for lunch that day. What did he care if ‘Verbanaium’ grew on Palaven and ancient Turians thought it was magic?

But now, just thinking of all the unknown species of flora and fauna that they were going to discover – and eventually have to name – made him giddy with anticipation. And that was before even considering the possibility of meeting other races and civilizations, if there were any in the cluster. All the different scenarios just boggled the mind.

“Scott Ryder?” A voice called next to him. He looked up at an Asari doctor and nodded his head. “Let’s get you checked out.”

He stood upright and secured his coffee mug on the bed with his hands.

“Look here” said the doctor, raising her arm horizontally in front of his face as her Omnitool lit up. Scott focused on the orange light at the center, as a cone of light shot out from it, scanning him from the top of the head down to the shoulders, and back up again. She then lifted his face with both hands, putting pressure on two points with her thumbs and index fingers, then moving along the length of his head to another two points, then another two. The vidcon was still playing in the background.

“After discovering an unusually high ratio of potential candidates, or ‘Golden Worlds’, the Heleus Cluster was selected as our destination. Now **you** are a part of the first wave of Arks arriving in Andromeda: our new home for humanity.”

Scott smiled at the sales pitch. Marketing was everywhere it seemed, even in a new galaxy.

“Makes it sound so easy, doesn’t it?” said the Asari, typing on her Omnitool.

“It’s what we trained for.” Scott replied reassuringly. “Even if it isn’t, we’ll be ready”.

“I hope so,” she said cryptically.

There was something a little off in her tone. He very lightly tilted his head and narrowed his eyes a little in a silent question, which she either didn’t pick up, or chose to ignore. So he asked outright.

“D’you know something I don’t?” he said.

 “Word came down that the Pathfinder wants you all mission-ready within the hour” she said. “Look this way.” she added and raised two fingers in the air, then moved them across his line of sight for Scott to follow with his eyes. He did as he was told.

_The Pathfinder._

His father. Their leader. It seemed very abrupt for him to want them to go on a mission within an hour. From what the briefings they’d received during training had indicated, Cryosleep could take its toll on their coordination – which he now knew was true – and thus required at least three hours of recovery time for the body to be 100% functional again. Eagerness aside, considering how weak he’d felt those first few minutes, he was inclined to believe that. And seeing as the Pathfinder would know all this better than any of them, that meant something wasn’t right.

But of course he didn’t want to convey alarm to the doctor. She didn’t need to worry too, this was their responsibility. Like he’d said earlier they’d trained for this, which included crisis control if things went wrong.

“Why the rush?” he said casually.

“He didn’t say. But something’s up”

 _Observant_ , he thought.

His mind was racing with possibilities. Was something wrong with the Nexus? Had their calculations for the Golden Worlds been off? A lot of things can happen in 600 years. He was starting to get worried.

_Deep breath._

_No time for that,_ he thought to himself, taking another deep breath and willing his mind to stay in the room. As he always did, he recalled the words of the lieutenant who’d been his first biotics instructor, during his early Alliance days:

_“Worry is a luxury that as Alliance Biotics we do not have. **Worry is for civilians, action is for soldiers** , **plans are for leaders**. Always remember that Biotic mastery requires emotional stability. If you let your emotions fluctuate, you can hurt people around you very easily, and that’s something you can never take back guys.”_

He’d always had the utmost respect for the man. It helped that he was really good at teaching, even though he’d chewed Scott out when they first met. But under his instruction, Scott had gained better precision and control over his abilities in the first six months than he’d had in 4 years prior to that - when he’d gotten his L4 implant.

“Okay, everything checks out” said the Asari. “Just give me a moment, we need to do one more thing before I send you on your way”.

Scott nodded, then looked around.

Liam was sat on the bed opposite his, and waved in silent greeting. He seemed in a slightly worse state than he himself was. Scott raised his hand in acknowledgment.

“Let’s test your SAM implant.” the doctor said.  “SAM, are you monitoring?”

There was no reply for a few moments.

“SAM? Are you online?”

There was a buzzing sound and a holographic display of SAM, his father’s A.I. program, appeared.

“Yes Dr. T’Perro.” said SAM. “Good morning Ryder. Are you feeling well?”

“I just need a second to get my bearings” Scott replied. “What’s up with my implant?”

“Just a routine check” said Dr. T’Perro. “To make sure the connection is still Live after being in stasis”.

“As the team’s mission computer, your well-being is my primary concern” SAM added.

“How are you feeling otherwise?”

“I’m just ready and eager to get to it” Scott said. And boy, was that true.

“Readings confirmed” said SAM. “I detect an increased level of adrenaline in your system slightly above average. The neural implant is functioning properly.”

“Caffeine always did make me jumpy.” Scott said teasingly, smiling to himself.

That had been a lie of course. He’d gotten over the obvious effects of caffeine years ago, seeing as he’d had a cup of coffee pretty much every day since he was a teenager.

The “above average” adrenaline was actually a unique way that his body responded to enthusiasm, which he’d found out about during his time in the Alliance. It was one of the things about him that made his Biotics so effective.

When he’d first gotten his L4 implant at 14, Scott had received some basic biotic training from his dad. It was mostly in telekinesis-related tasks, like lifting and lowering objects, since he refused to teach him Spatial Distortion or Kinetic Fields because he was too young. But Scott always got a huge rush out of activating his Biotics, so he’d spent a lot of time practicing on his own, and managed to figure out some of that stuff – including how to ‘Charge’ – pretty quickly.

Then, when he first signed up to the Alliance Navy at 18, his intro survey had included three questions about how confident he felt “using his Biotics”, on a scale of one to five. The questions were for offensive, defensive, and supportive use. Being the cocky little shit that he was, he’d replied **five** to the offensive question.

After that, they’d put him into the Biotic training centre against 5 VI bots. The lieutenant had asked him ‘not to hold back’ and ‘go all out’, but mentioned that he could call for them to stop at any time if he felt overwhelmed. Young and eager to show off, Scott had obliged.

Turns out he was decent, and what he could do was quite a lot of damage. He took out the first bot pretty quickly, charging into it and slamming into its head, then quickly jumping onto the second one and smashing into its chest. The rest of the VIs tried to hide behind cover and shoot, but Scott knew that there was no point. Very few materials could withstand Biotic Charges and he was certain that a training ground’s cover wouldn’t be made from any of those materials. Okay, maybe he wasn’t entirely certain, but he was riding the high of feeling like a Biotic juggernaut – since it was the first time he’d used his ability freely and without restraint – so he took the chance. He charged and smashed through the cover, and onto the chest of the bot hiding behind it with little effort, ripping its circuits apart.

But, a five on that question had been a little **too** confident. While his attention was on the bot he’d just taken down, another one shot him in the shoulder. It was only a graze since they were set to Novice difficulty, not programmed to cause serious injury, but his arm was bleeding, which ended the demo session.

As the lieutenant had told him – he’d been watching the performance – that had been his very first lesson:

_Don’t be cocky, and don’t take your eyes off the enemy for more than one second if you’re sitting still._

He’d told Scott that he was too reckless and had very little direct control over his Biotics, emphasizing that he should **never** Charge through cover like that. If he did hit something he couldn’t go through, the impact would break his arm, making him a dead weight in the middle of a firefight. Which also meant he’d be putting his and his fellow soldiers’ lives in danger.

He’d later revealed to him that even though he’d smashed through the cover point first, the charge had been strong enough to destroy that VI’s hardware beyond standard repair. In terms of raw strength the potential was there, he’d said. So over the next few weeks, he showed Scott how to charge **past** obstacles and cover instead of through them, so he could hit whatever was hiding behind them without risking fractures. Scott couldn’t get enough of his tutelage.

His biometrics during training in subsequent years had revealed that he had a **“rapidly deployed and higher than average release of adrenaline”** when he got pumped up and excited, which in turn boosted his capacity to produce mass effect fields. The higher adrenaline spike was a natural reaction to getting excited, and since using his Biotics made him excited, they resonated together like a feedback loop.

 _“Nothing to do with caffeine”,_ he thought.

“You’re all done, let’s get you on your way” said Dr. T’Perro and Scott stood up. No nausea, that was a good sign. “You might wanna hang around while we revive your sister” she added, pointing to a pod nearby that must’ve been Sara’s. Scott was eager to see her again. “It helps seeing a familiar face–“ 

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence, because a loud rumble came from somewhere above.

“I don’t like the sound of that” Scott said.

With a deafening noise, the room shook violently and he fell to the ground. He managed to put his hands down in time to prevent hitting his head, but his body still hit the floor with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. The heavy, metallic pod slid on the ground, hurtling towards him and Dr. T’Perro, but as Scott started glowing blue, planning to stop it, the artificial gravity was lost, and the pod slid over their heads, narrowly missing them and hitting the wall behind with a loud clang.

“What’s happening?” said the Asari, shaken, but calm. Scott was impressed with her composure. Other people all around them were clearly panicking.

“Just hang on to something!” Scott shouted to everyone in the room.

“Gravity in the Cryobay is offline.” came a voice from the speaker.

“I’m almost inside, hold on!” said another voice. It sounded like Cora. The doors of the Cryobay slid open, and sure enough, there she was.

“This is Cora.” she said to the radio. Her voice echoed through the speakers. “I’m at the Cryo bay! Brace for a reset!”

Scott moved his arms and legs into position. She pressed a few buttons on the console and gravity was re-engaged. People fell to the floor with grunts and ‘oomphs’.

“Everyone okay?” she asked.

“I think so” said the Asari doctor looking around at the people in the Cryobay.

“What happened?” asked Scott, slowly pushing himself off the floor.

“We’re not sure, sensors are scrambled” Cora replied. “But it’s good to see you’re up. Feels like centuries since we spoke.”

He smiled and shook his head disapprovingly at the pun.

“This is the Pathfinder” came his father’s voice over the speakers. “Mission team continue preparations. Cora, Ryders, report to the bridge.”

“You heard him,” Cora said. “Let’s get – “

“Uhhh, we have a problem here” said a technician, standing over a pod.

It was the same guy who’d helped him after he’d woken up, Sean. Scott hadn’t noticed him come back into the room. The pod he was standing over looked banged up and badly damaged. Within a few milliseconds it dawned on him what he was looking at, and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

_Sara… No…_

“It’s Sara Ryder” the guy added, confirming his fears. His heart sank even deeper as he rushed to his sister’s side. Cora joined him straight away.

“Lexi, what’s wrong?” she asked. Scott was very grateful because he seemed to have lost his speech for a moment.

“I don’t know,” replied Dr T’Perro. _Lexi_. “I’ll have to check it out” she said and switched on her Omnitool. She tapped it a few times and waited, reading the results for a few seconds.

“It looks like some sort of power surge hit the stasis pod” she said finally.

“Is she okay?”

“I’m running a diagnostic now.”

“Give it a second for the processor to sync.”

“Did the seals break?”

“No, physical integrity looks good.”

Scott was too stunned to figure out who was saying what, or do anything useful. It all sounded like noise around him, and all he could do was try to control the sinking feeling that was threatening to swallow him up.

_No, not Sara, not her too... Please no…_

The phrase just repeated in his head, over and over.

For what felt like an eternity.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1  
> As always, if you have feedback positive and negative (i.e. constructive) I'm ALL ears. Next chapter will probably land Saturday at the latest, and then we'll get into the weekly schedule.
> 
> Note 2  
> I can never tell if I've made things too obscure and they only make sense in my head, so just in case it wasn't clear, the spinning was the Cryopod moving out of its storage space, and the sensastion on Scott's skin was him being dressed by Sean the technician. 
> 
> Note 3  
> In the game Liam and Scott haven’t met before the shuttle to Habitat 7 and they do their introduction there, but as you might’ve noticed Scott knows his name already in the story so yea, we’re changing that. It struck me as weird how people were always saying that the Initiative was so organized and Scott and the team got ‘training’, but then no one had even met the rest of the team before? Like if you’re going to be in the “Pathfinder team” in a new and uncharted galaxy then surely at least some of your training should be as a team. Same applies to Cora. Expect more of this kind of change where I feel the game’s explanation was subpar or broke logic/continuity. 
> 
> Note 4  
> For the same same reason, you might notice I’ve skipped this line from Lexi:  
> “In theory, SAM sees what you see. We won’t know for sure if the implant works as advertised until we get you in the field”.  
> It implies that Scott doesn't know anything about the chip's capabilities, and that it's not even been tested yet, wtf? It is unfathomable to me that the Pathfinder team would all have just received AI brain implants and then just be shipped off to Andromeda without testing even the basic sensory input of the thing. 
> 
> Final note: I realize not everyone would’ve played a Biotic in Mass Effect, but because I love Biotics and Scott is one here, there will be a fair few references to specific abilities (including a LOT of the Biotic Charge cos’ it’s awesome and I spammed the shit out of it in Andromeda). I won't always be explicitly stating how they each work, usually just their effect, so if you don’t know them here’s a video showcasing each ability:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COltde0OCAg


	4. Twin concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is worried about his sister and recalls a few events from their past. It's all getting a little hectic as they approach their Golden World. Is it going to be what they need?

Scott and his sister had always been almost inseparable as kids. So when they reached adulthood and signed up to the Alliance, they’d both made sure not to let the distance erode their brotherly bond.

They’d kept in touch by setting up vidcalls every Tuesday at 11:00pm Earth time on a weekly schedule. And beyond that, they would call each other whenever else they felt like it, if they weren’t busy with their duties.

Most of the time they’d just stay on the line for hours and hours on end, just enjoying each other’s company while each was doing their own thing. It was something they used to do all the time when they were at home. Sara could be playing a game, and Scott would be reading a book, just sitting in the same room. Even though this was done through vidcon after they enlisted, it still felt the same, and helped both of them be a little less homesick. ‘Our own slice of home’, they called it. And when they needed to, it also gave them a chance to chat.

Sometimes they’d have a quick catch-up to talk about how things were going, especially if one or the other had a lot of stuff to do.

And at other times, they’d have long conversations about their lives, their dreams and ambitions, and what they were experiencing.

During one of those longer conversations – about 10 months after they’d enlisted – Sara was telling him about a cute guy she met in one of the units she did drills with. And, being Sara, she then craftily looped the discussion around to him, and to whether he’d met any girls **he** liked during the last ten months.

It was an awkward topic for him at the time. Scott had realised and accepted that he was gay for a few years before he enlisted, but he wasn’t really in a rush to… **do** stuff, with people. He took care of his needs like everyone his age did, which kept his libido in check, but that was enough for now. And even though he believed that his family would most likely be okay with it – he knew Sara definitely would be – he also wasn’t looking forward to having these conversations with them. What was the point anyway? He’d do it when he was ready to be with someone, or when he met someone and wanted them to know.

So when Sara asked him about girls in the Alliance he’d tried to play it casual without outright lying to her, by saying _“Nah, none of them are my type”_.

It had been his downfall.

She grilled him for the next ten minutes about what kind of girl WAS his type, since she hadn’t seen him with anyone so far. They had easily been the most awkward ten minutes of his life. He hated lying to her and she knew it. They’d spent way too much time together to not be able to tell when the other was lying.

So he’d faced the awkward conversation, with Sara asking questions about body type, eyes, hair colour etc, and Scott providing vague answers to tick a checkbox. Some of the questions applied to guys too, so they were easier for him to answer without feeling guilty. But all in all they both knew that the conversation was pointless. Sara could pick up that he was bullshitting her, and Scott knew she was bullshitting **him** , by pretending to buy his lame non-answers.

After she’d asked him _“What would you like her character to be like, what qualities are your type?”_ , instead of replying, Scott let the air hang for a few seconds of silence. They’d felt much longer, but Sara waited patiently, as they just stood there looking at each other on the vid. She had her ‘totally serious poker face’ on, except for the corners of her mouth. They twitched ever so slightly as she was clearly fighting a smile. Scott was trying to keep a straight _(har har) face_ , but his lips had already formed a downward smile, and he was about to crack. She’d won this one.

“Sara.”

“Yea?”

“There’s no girl that is my type. I’m gay.”

Their barely present self-control broke down at the same time and they burst out laughing, the sounds of their amusement filling their rooms and echoing to each other over the vid.

Sara tried to breathe in and made a ‘piggy’ snort sound, which just fuelled them to laugh harder. “No shit…” she said trying to catch her breath, “Ohmygod…I thought…ugh, I thought you were gonna keep it up forever!” she finished wiping a tear from her eye.

“Haaa… Well, you wouldn’t fucking let me would you?” he said, swiping a hand across his own eyes, as the last few sounds of laughter were ebbing away. “Holy shit, I felt more ridiculous and stupid with every question I answered.”

“Good,” she chuckled. “There was no reason to keep it a secret from me, dumbass. Or anyone else for that matter. Are you gonna tell mom and dad?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yea, eventually.”

“You sound unsure...” she said, sizing him up. “Are you worried because of dad?”

“No, what? What do you mean? Is dad not okay with gay people?”

“No not that, I thought you were worried because he always talks about ‘the family line’ and stuff.”

“Nah you know I don’t really care about all that. I just…” he wasn’t sure how to explain it to her. “I don’t plan to… sleep around, let’s say. And I’m also not in a rush to deal with relationships at the moment, so what’s the point?”

“The point is that we’re your family Scott. We don’t just share stuff with each other out of necessity.”

“Yea, cos’ dad has always been so BIG on sharing, right?” he said sarcastically.

“No, but is dad really the one you want to emulate in this kind of thing?" she asked. “Anyway, it’s up to you of course, but I think you should tell them sooner rather than later.”

“Why?”

“Cos’ they love you, like I do, and you know they wanna be part of our lives, dad included. He’s just… not that good at saying it.”

“I… ok. I’ll think about it.” he said, and they left it there.

It had been an enlightening conversation. As much as Scott was saying that telling the people around him wasn’t a big deal, the truth is that it **was** , otherwise he’d have just told everyone years ago. There was obviously a lingering hesitation still in his mind for some reason. Maybe he wasn’t as accepting of himself as he thought…

Nonetheless, he’d immediately felt much better after telling her, and it’d even improved their vidcall chatter. Having no secrets and being able to discuss good-looking guys with her as he would anything else was quite liberating.

And then, when their dad’s research ruined any chance they had with the Alliance they’d joined the Initiative together…

 **“There, the power circle is green”** , said Lexi, bringing him out of his reverie and back into the present moment. “It looks good. No structural damage to the pod. All connections check out”. That sounded good, for the pod.

“Is… is my sister okay?” he muttered looking down at it. His heart hammered as he said the words, not sure how he’d deal with the answer if it was negative.

“Sara is fine. Her vitals are strong.” Lexi replied and Scott closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath through his nose. It felt like he’d been holding that breath in for a century. “But the revival procedure was interrupted” she finished.

He turned to look at her questioningly.

“I don’t like the sound of that, what does that mean? Is she not gonna wake up?”

“Don’t worry – it just means the process could take a bit longer than usual” she replied. “SAM?”

“My connection to Sara’s implant was suspended. However her pulse, respiration, and brain activity are all normal.” said SAM, and Scott felt the knot in his stomach untying a little more with each word.

“To be on the safe side, we’ll need to keep her in a low-level coma for a while, then let her body regain consciousness naturally” Lexi added. “She’ll be fine.”

“Glad to hear it” said Scott relieved and nodded his head. A coma wasn’t great, but it was only to make sure she was safe. All her vitals including brain activity were good, and that was the important thing.

“Thanks Lexi. Keep us updated” said Cora. “Ryder, I’ll wait for you by the door whenever you’re ready to go.”

“Ok” he said, and looked back down at the pod that contained his twin.

_Okay, let’s take a deep breath, Sara’s gonna be fine. I’ll get to the bridge and deal with whatever this situation is like a trained professional. I’m a professional, right? Right. We’re all good._

His omnitool was placed on a bench near the bed where the technicians had made him sit earlier. He went over to it and equipped it, then headed off towards the door.

He noticed Liam sitting on the bed nearby, head in his hands like he was having the worst headache of his life and moved towards him. Dr. Carlyle was doing his check-up, performing the same scans that Lexi had performed on Scott earlier. Liam noticed him approach and raised his head slightly.

“Did the world just turn upside down, or am I still dreaming?” he said with a grunt.

“You’re definitely not dreaming” Scott said then turned to Dr. Carlyle. “Hey Harry, good to see you up. Is he hurt?” he said nodding towards Liam.

“Hi Scott and no, it’s just a bump on the head, I’ll get it checked.” the doctor replied in his smooth, baritone voice.

“Just a bump? Doctor, tell us the truth…” said Scott in a sombre tone. Both Dr. Carlyle and Liam turned to look at him, one of them puzzled, the other concerned. “Is Liam’s last living brain cell gonna make it?”

Dr. Carlyle smiled and chuckled lightly. Liam tried moving his hand from his head to punch Scott in the leg, but he had already started walking away towards Cora, a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re hilarious Ryder!” Liam called after him. “Do you do kids’ birthday parties?”

“No, but if you remind me when your birthday is I might make an exception!” Scott called while walking backwards, so he could see Liam roll his eyes. He wasn’t disappointed.

Liam was alright. They didn’t really know each other properly – they hadn’t traded life stories or anything – but from the training sim missions they’d taken together before coming to Andromeda they’d established some early rapport. It was enough to allow them to have some banter and joke around with each other without either one taking it as a real insult – or god forbid something different. Scott didn’t think they batted for the same team anyway, but the guy wasn’t really his type, so all was good. He wanted to make friends with his team without having to deal with complications.

 “Sometimes I’d swear you guys are twelve years old” said Cora as he reached her, shaking her head but smiling.

“Well, the only difference between 12 and 22 is a single number, so you’re not that far off” he replied, playing innocent. She huffed a laugh and started walking alongside him.

And even though Scott’s earlier excitement had gotten a little soured because he couldn’t share these moments with his sister, his heart felt a little bit lighter as they walked off to get to the bridge.

***

He and Cora had just crossed the hallway outside the Cryo bay and were heading to the transport station to take the tram that would transport them to the bridge. Just before they reached it, a loud blast shook the room. He covered his head instinctively and got low on the ground, but it didn’t seem to be an actual explosion, at least none to do with fuel or flammable materials. The room smelled of burnt circuits and there was smoke everywhere, but no fire.  

“Is everyone ok? What the hell was that?” called Scott as he steadied Cora and looked around the room. People were surprised, some of them coughing, but otherwise everyone seemed ok.

“Up here!” shouted one of the technicians. She was standing on a platform on top of one of the generators in the room. That generator and the one next to it were the source of the smoke, and there were sparks flying out of them as well. Not good. “Whatever hit the ark overloaded and fried our power systems! We have to balance the power load, or it could explode!”

“But we don’t know where the fault is!” shouted another technician somewhere behind them.

“Really?” Scott said in disbelief, looking at the thick plume of smoke and the sparks coming from the generator. He considered adding “ _do you think it might be at the spot where all the smoke and sparks are coming from?”_ but refrained.

“I have a scanner, I’ll locate it for you.” he said in the end. He switched on his omnitool and turned on the scanner.

“I’ll get readings on the second conduit” said Cora and went to the generators on the other side.

Scott shook his head as he scanned the generators. Surprise surprise, the fault was exactly at the source of the thick column of smoke.  
  
“Relay 2C shows damage from a temperature spike.” SAM said.

“Found it, bad relay!” shouted Scott.

“Can you reset it?” asked the technician.

“On it” he replied and went to the side panel. He connected the omnitool with the generator’s interface. SAM overrode the controls and set off the reset sequence. A confirmation came up on the omnitool’s holoscreen.

“That should do it! Rerouting the power now”.

“The grid’s recovering!”

“Readings are in the green!”

“Thank god. That could have been the end of everyone in the cryo bay” remarked someone next to Scott. A shiver ran down his spine.

 _It’s all fine now, h_ e thought. The adaptive ventilation system started working again, and after a few seconds the room was smoke-free again.

“Good job, let’s get to the tram.” Cora said as she nodded towards the transport station.

“They didn’t really need us there…” he said in a low voice, trying to figure out if she was just patronizing him.

“They did though.” she shrugged, “Some people need a voice of reason and a little nudge in emergencies. Not to mention that most of them probably just got out of Cryo at the same time as you and had to get straight to work because of whatever hit us earlier. Their brains are still a little scrambled.”

Scott hadn’t thought of that, but she was probably right. He felt a little guilty for judging the technicians, but also glad that he hadn’t gotten snappy with them. A bruised ego never helped people work better, it only made them resent you.

They got in the tram. Scott activated the console, and it zoomed off toward the ship’s bridge. It wasn’t a long ride, but it gave him a little time to think. People looked up to the Pathfinder team, his father had said. The team would be a symbol, just as much as they’d be explorers and trailblazers. He was part of that team, so he had to set an example too. That was one of the main reasons he came to Andromeda after all, to prove himself and become the kind of person he had looked up to in the past. His conduct and his attitude should reflect that.

They reached the bridge and walked through the door. The crew was frantically running around, some asking for reports, some giving them. Turns out that whatever had hit them, hit them pretty hard. Scott picked up that they were drifting, unable to properly steer the course of the ship, and were also running on reserve power. Each of those things was bad on its own, but together, they were **VERY** bad. He looked out the window and…

And was utterly stunned.

It was an awe-inspiring view. There were… tendrils, was the only thing he could think of, tendrils of what looked like crystallized smoke. They made sharp jagged edges almost like the thorns of a rosebush, but longer and thinner, with a thousand smaller ones protruding from each thorn on the spine of the tendril. Those in turn had other, even smaller thorns branching off from them and so on and so forth, until they became too small to see from this distance. It was like the tentacles of a jellyfish if you’d magnified them enough. Like you could see the thousand small venomous stingers, black and orange and yellow, and branching off from each other.

 _What… is this?_ he thought.

But, questions would have to wait. His father was trying to get SAM to provide visuals on the golden world they’d been heading for, but apparently it wasn’t an easy job. He and Nozomi Dunn, the ship’s captain, were arguing:

“Alec please…” she said in exasperation, “You may be Pathfinder, but this is my ship.”

Knowing that he wasn’t visible to anyone, except maybe Cora, Scott instinctively raised an eyebrow at the comment.

_I wonder what this is about._

“Captain, the protocol is clear” said his father. “In the absence of communication with the Nexus or the other arks, we proceed to our appointed golden world. **Solid ground.** ” he added, putting special emphasis on the last two words.

 _Terra Firma protocol._ So they’d not been able to establish communication with the Nexus. He wondered if the tendrils had something to do with that, or if something else had happened to the space station’s communication arrays.

“If it’s even out there.” Dunn said, as she pointed to whatever the floating mass outside was. “The protocol didn’t take into account running into an energy cloud Alec, and that’s just a wild guess at what we’ve hit”.

_She’s got a point. If there’s no world to land on…_

His father paused and looked outside, considering the words carefully.

“Alec I need to assess the damage, stop the power from bleeding out.” Dunn continued. “We’ve got twenty thousand people asleep on this ship. I’d like to give them a chance to wake up.”

Scott thought of Sara again and his stomach lurched a little. His father probably didn’t even know yet.

“Can you blame her?” Cora said quietly.

“We’ve got _Terra Firma_ in place, but as the captain I’d think she gets the final word.” he replied.

“Well, he might –“

“This isn’t about having the final word” said his father turning to glare at them both disapprovingly. Apparently they hadn’t been as quiet as they thought. Either that or SAM was enhancing his senses.

“Yes sir,” said Cora standing at attention.

Scott said nothing.

His father’s gaze stayed on him a moment longer, sizing him up and down. Scott held his eyes. Within moments of meeting each other after 600 years they hadn’t even managed to exchange a _“hello how’re you feeling after being a popsicle?”_ and had gone straight to silent gazes. It looked like concern, followed by relief that Scott was seeing in his dad's look, but the man could do with speaking his mind now and then.

“We’re coming through the cloud” said a technician from somewhere behind him.

“My god…” said captain Dunn, “is that our golden world?”

The planet looked like a deathtrap. Instead of being green and blue it had a yellowish hue and was surrounded by huge thunder clouds. Even from this distance they could see them surrounding the atmosphere, with flashes of lightning every few seconds. At first glance it seemed like the place wouldn’t be able to host anything living at all, and the few energy readings they managed to get weren’t looking good. They were nothing but huge ionization spikes and static feedback from the charged particles that would surely be floating around.

“That’s Habitat 7, Nozomi.” said his father, his determination setting in. Getting a visual of their ‘golden world’ meant the protocol could now take effect. “New Earth, if we’re lucky. All of our long-range scans told us it was in the green zone, perfect for human settlement”.

“It doesn’t even look the same…” Cora said despondently.

“We don’t know how bad it is yet.” Scott added. “Still seems like it’s our best shot.”

“Maybe.” replied Dunn. “There’s just a lot on the line.”

His father addressed the AI. “SAM?”

“All we can detect from here is high ionization readings. The energy from the phenomenon is damping our sensors. Planetary conditions are unknown.”

“We’re marooned, Nozomi. Twenty thousand souls adrift at sea. And when the power runs out and stays out…” he didn’t finish the sentence, but they all understood what he meant. “We NEED to know if that’s safe harbor.”

“And if it’s not?” she questioned.

“As Pathfinder, it will be my and my team’s job to find an alternative. It’s what we’ve trained for. But if this goes well... We’re already home.”

The captain thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright, just make it quick.”

“Harper, the rest of the team should be awake by now, have them spin up two shuttles. Planetfall in thirty!” said Ryder Sr. as he headed off to get ready.

“Yes sir,” Cora replied and left the bridge.

Scott looked at the energy cloud, and the captain walked up to him, looking outside the window.

“A stubborn one isn’t he?” she said.

Scott took a deep breath. _You don’t even know,_ was all he wanted to say.

“It’s more that he cares… in his own way.” he said. “And he’s prepared for this better than any of us. Enough to warrant giving him a chance.”

“I suppose you’re right. He is our Pathfinder after all and if this doesn’t work out, we’ll need him more than ever.” she said and went back to her navigation console.

Scott took one more look at Habitat 7, then headed off to gear up. He wasn't sure how this was gonna go.

***

He and Cora met in the locker room after they’d got changed into their armor.

Scott reached into his locker and grabbed his equipment, stashing it in the different compartments of his armor. A few medigel packs, Omnigel supply refills, a couple rations and hydration packs and, very importantly, a sachet containing powder with an acid neutralizing agent. The powder wasn’t really a proper solution if they got splashed with acid, considering that they couldn’t carry enough in their armor to cover any area larger than an outstretched palm. It was more of a quick “patch” to prevent severe damage to life support systems, if they accidentally came in contact with acidic substances. It had been one of the big concerns they’d encountered in multiple simulation scenarios during their Initiative recon training. Andromeda was a new galaxy, but the chemical elements were reportedly the same throughout the known universe, maybe with a few new ones for them to discover here. This in turn meant that there were probably multiple combinations that could result in corrosive substances for which they had to be prepared. The training mantra had been _“try and avoid contact with unknown liquids”_.

 _Good advice for many areas in life_ , he mused inwardly.

Last but not least, he reached for his trusty M-3 Predator pistol. They weren’t expecting to get into firefights since none of the scans had shown any sign of advanced life forms in the cluster. But the local carnivorous fauna was another story. Seeing as these were just uninhabited wild lands they fully expected local predators to take notice of the new arrivals and maybe try their luck. Thanks to his Biotics Scott wasn’t ever really ‘unarmed’, so the pistol was more than enough for a recon mission.

He checked the power of his life support and back-up life support systems. All seemed good.

Well, not all. Sara wasn’t with them and that marred the moment slightly…

They’d joined the Initiative and had trained for this together, fighting side by side, in simulation after simulation. Getting used to each other’s rhythm and coordination, and literally watching each other’s backs in combat just as they had in real life. And when they finished training sessions, they’d hang out and talk for hours and hours about how it would be when they reached Andromeda, when they found that first golden world. About that first moment when they’d set foot on solid ground and what they’d encounter.

They’d started sneaking into their father’s office to access his work terminal. The ability to conduct long-range scans was only available to the Pathfinder, not the recon team. Those scans used up a sizeable amount of resources – as well as Geth technology from what they’d been told. His dad wouldn’t have been very happy if he’d found out, but it was his own fault really. His password had been Ellen2180, their mom’s name and the year she died. They’d guessed it on the second attempt.

So they’d started taking the data that was available through the scans to make conjectures on what they were likely to encounter. Scott was good with math and data structures but he only bothered with the top-level stuff so he could get some idea of what kinds of things they might expect to see, letting his imagination do the rest of the work.

But Sara, being the research geek that she was, wanted to calculate possibilities and numerical probabilities of _“how likely X is to happen”._ She’d spend weeks doing predictive model analyses to come up with actual percentages.

Said percentages were always ridiculously low of course, with a large margin for error. She was good at it, but even her best predictive models couldn’t possibly take into account all of the nearly infinite variables that could come into play. A 600 year voyage was a long time. That’s why his father and the Initiative used AIs to do this kind of thing.

So she usually got stuff like 0.000000003% chance of this kind of animal, 0.000000006% chance of that kind of plant, and so on. And when she got each result, Scott would make a small 3D model of what she’d “discovered”, and display it on their holoscreen. It was fun, and they had a good time trying to figure these things out. _And then, came the mushroom…_

Scott smiled at the memory.

She’d managed to calculate that one of the Habitats had a 0.4% chance of containing a specific kind of fungus, shaped like a mushroom. She’d been absolutely ecstatic. Scott had tried to bring up that it’s still quite unlikely to be there since it was basically a one-in-two-fifty chance, but Sara wasn’t having any of it, and he couldn’t really blame her. When everything else was in the one-in-a-billion or one-in-hundreds-of-millions range, this mushroom’s chances of one-in-two-fifty might as well be one hundred percent. She was definitely treating it as such, and the enthusiasm had swept him in too. They’d spent the next week poring over anything that could give them a hint of what that thing could look like, what its shape could be and where it would grow. In the end Scott had made a quite detailed 3D model of the thing and had put it up on the holoscreen.

It became the symbol of Andromeda to them. Sara was certain that the color was quite unlikely to be the same, but that the shape and texture had an eighty percent chance of being identical to what they had there. Whenever her and Scott discussed Andromeda from then onwards, that stupid little fungus was always on the holoscreen. Rotating, like a little mushroom-shaped sun that their hopes and dreams all orbited…

And on that nostalgic note, Scott brought himself back in the room.

“My sister is gonna hate that she missed this.” he said.

“Are all the Ryders adrenaline junkies?” Cora asked.

“I guess it’s in our blood. She beat me into the world by one minute and I’ve never been able to hear the end of it. Couldn’t wait to get started.” he replied with a smile.

“Well, don’t worry. I’m sure Sara is gonna pull through.” she said with a reassuring tone.

“When she does, she’s gonna want stories.”

“Then grab your helmet and let’s get out there and find her some.” Cora replied. “And maybe stop at the good-luck rock before we go?”

“The what?”

“It’s an old superstition of your dad’s.”

 _Of course it is,_ Scott thought rolling his eyes. He reached for his helmet and put it under his arm, as three guys walked into the room to get their gear from their lockers. One of them was Fisher, a guy who’d also trained with Scott and Liam a little before they all left. The other two guys hadn’t trained with them but he knew one of their names. The first guy was tall, with brown straight hair and light brown skin, wearing a visor on his left eye. The other was a little shorter but stockier, with a shaved head and darker skin. They were all fully suited up. Scott waved in casual greeting to the group.

“Hey Ryder” Fisher said in response.

“Hey Fisher. And, it’s Kirkland, right?” he asked, pointing at the taller guy with the brown hair.

“Yeah. I think we met just before the Hyperion left Earth. Not sure if you know Greer.” He said pointing to the third man.

“Hey there.” said Greer and reached out to shake Scott’s hand. Scott took it and gave a nod as he went on: “Your dad say anything about what’s going on?” he asked.

“Tough to say. The sensors are scrambled and can’t get a good read on the planet.”

“Well, at least it keeps things interesting.” Kirkland said.

“Yea,” said Greer, “it’d be a shame to go through all this training and not put it to good use.”

“I hear ya,” Scott agreed.

“I heard a rumor from the bridge that the captain and the Pathfinder aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye on this.” Fisher jumped in.

 _Holy shit that was fast,_ Scott thought. When the hell did they have time to gossip?

“I wouldn’t put much stock in rumors Fisher” he said.

“Right… And no one heard you say that she had the final call either yea?” said Fisher with a smirk. The little bastard knew full well Scott had to be professional and couldn’t talk about this stuff, so he was teasing. Scott shook his head and smiled.

“See you guys on the ride down.” was all he said.

“Later.”

“See ya.”

“See you in a bit Ryder” said Fisher with a cheeky smile.

Scott moved around them and walked forward a few feet, finding himself in front of the ‘good luck rock’. He gave it a long look, skeptical, then activated his omnitool and scanned it.

“Analysis indicates alkali fieldspar and quartz” said SAM’s voice through his comms. “Commonly known as granite.”

 _A goddamn piece of granite_ he huffed and shook his head. _Well, doesn’t hurt to call for lady luck’s favor I suppose,_ he thought as he shrugged and approached it.

“A good luck rock huh?”

“Your dad was mountain-climbing back on Earth when he was younger. His hook wasn’t well secured and slipped off. It caught on this piece of rock and stopped him from falling.” said Cora in response.

“He never mentioned this before.” Scott said. _Not like he ever bothered sharing this stuff with his family_.

“Way things are going today, we’ll need all the luck we can get”.

Scot nodded in agreement.

 _Weird to think that a rock is partly responsible for my dad’s – and therefore my – life,_ he thought as he removed his gauntlet. He slowly ran his fingers over the granite. It was cold to the touch, and part of the surface felt smoother than he expected. Dips and bumps, like valleys and hills covered it lengthwise. The rough, uneven texture and the smooth flat planes reminded him of the Milky Way.

Of the Citadel.

Of Earth.

 Of _home_.

He smiled. _Time to make ourselves a new home._

He put on his gauntlet and his helmet, and motioned to Cora that he was ready to go.

***

Liam caught up with them as they reached the hangar.

“Hey Liam. Just another boring day at the office huh?” said Cora, sizing him up.

“Heh, not likely from what I’m hearing. Sounds like a proper trial by fire.” said Liam.

“I figure it’s a chance to show everyone what we can do. Get out there and earn our stripes” Scott added.

“You’re Alec’s son alright,” said Cora.

He huffed a laugh. _Was that a compliment?_ he mused. Okay, maybe a little harsh.

Scott didn’t hate his dad, far from it, and what he’d told captain Dunn earlier was true. He did care in his own way and Scott knew that he loved them. He’d just been rather… distant, before Scott’s mother even fell ill. And after… After was another deal altogether.

As if on queue, Ryder Sr. appeared. He was wearing his N7 gear and had his helmet in hand.

“We’ll be a little shorthanded with Sara out.” he said looking at Scott.

 _So he knows…_ he thought as his father approached him. He seemed genuinely concerned, but whether that was for how Scott was handling it or how Sara was doing, he couldn’t tell. Probably a bit of both.

“I heard what happened. Your sister’s strong, she’ll make it.” he said. As always, trying to be the strong one.

“We bet on whose boots would hit the ground first” Scott huffed with a guilty look. “This isn’t how I wanted to win…”

“Heh. Well knowing Sara she’ll want double or nothing on who climbs the tallest mountain.” his father replied. “Don’t let it get you down, I need you sharp.”

“I understand.”

Ryder Sr. began to turn around but stopped midway and turned back to Scott. “Your mother would have been proud. Of both of you.”

Scott felt his heart pinch at the words. It was like an unspoken agreement between them that they didn’t talk about his mom, not since she passed away... It hit way too close to home, and reminded them both of a time when things between them had gotten… difficult.

He lowered his eyes, pursed his lips and nodded in acknowledgment. His father gave him a pat on the shoulder and moved toward the group, turning to address all of them.

“Ok team listen up. I chose each and every one of you personally for the Pathfinder team. Not just because you’re talented and passionate, but because you’re dreamers, like me.”

He had their full attention.

“We dream of exploring the unknown, of finding the edge of the map. And then discovering what lies beyond. When people look back on this – and they will – they’ll remember that we didn’t give up. That we kept dreaming. That our first, few, faltering steps in Andromeda were the beginning of everything they know. We only get **one** chance to be the first. So let’s go make history.”

The words fanned the flame of discovery and exploration in Scott’s heart, and from the looks of the others who were standing at attention and bumping a fist across their chest, they all felt the same. His old man definitely knew how to inspire, with just a few choice words.

And so, with their heads full of hope and a heat to their stride, they all headed for the shuttles. Whatever they’d come across, whatever happened on this mission, one thing was absolutely certain:

This moment, was bigger than all of them. Here, today, they would make history for all mankind, with their very own hands. The thought made him both giddy with anticipation and humbled with awe.

 _Nothing will ever be the same again,_ he thought and stepped into the shuttle.

He had no idea just **how** true his thought would turn out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1:  
> In this chapter I wanted to give some context on the twins' relationship, as it will likely be an important point to the way Scott deals with things regarding his family from here on out. We will definitely revisit this shared past at some point for twin shenanigans, and more.
> 
> Note 2:  
> Thank you all for the kudos, and for just reading my story, the greatest reward is knowing that people enjoy it. If you have feedback, gimme it! Good or bad, doesn't matter, this is a learning experience for me as much as it is a fun story-telling project.
> 
> Note 3:  
> In terms of the scenes we're probably not going to explicitly go through all of the game's cutscenes in this level of detail - unless I feel like the granular play-by-play of a scene would make for good storytelling. But as I mentioned before especially where I feel logic has failed us, I want to try and contextualise or correct it. So to do this, A) Liam and Scott have known each other already (enough for banter but not life stories), and B) , and I've added some thought processes for the explosion and scanning scene. A bunch of technicians who couldn’t locate a fault that might cause an explosion, was a contrived excuse to tutorialize the scanner, but not really well-explained since these people are meant to be "the best" at what they do.


	5. Planetfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and co. land on Habitat 7, which is in a much worse state than they'd feared. Will anything go their way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: This chapter includes graphic depictions of combat and injury.

It all went to shit sooner than anyone had expected. They should’ve braced for it really. It seemed like the one consistent rule in Andromeda was gonna be “ _things will definitely go to shit, and fast”_.

It had started out okay. They’d split up into two teams and boarded the shuttles. One would be piloted by Ryder Sr. and Cora as co-pilot, with Dr. Carlyle and Hayes on board. Hayes was a bulky marine that Scott hadn’t been introduced to back on earth. From what he’d gleaned from her file, she’d been stationed on Omega as an undercover agent, and was pretty capable in sticky situations. Not that he’d had any doubts. His father had handpicked her just like the rest of the team.

The other shuttle was piloted by Kirkland, with Fisher as a co-pilot. Greer, Liam, and Scott were in the back.

His father switched shuttle one to manual piloting and Kirkland did the same with shuttle two, following close behind. Scott and Liam were staring out the window as they all cleared the Hyperion launch bay and began their journey toward Habitat 7.

_Hopefully our new home._

The energy cloud was in full view now, closer than ever. Scott had been in awe when he first laid eyes on it, and this time wasn’t much different. He could see a lot more detail up close than what he had from the Hyperion bridge. It made the thing look more like strands of smoke that were suspended in time. Tentacles of brown and orange and yellow energy, with little glowing spots like small embers trapped in a distant flame. And there was something else too…movement?

He squinted cos’ he wasn’t sure at first, but yea, he could definitely see movement. It was a little disturbing, and made the energy mass seem… alive as it writhed almost imperceptibly, like it was responding to the shuttles leaving the ark. The thing ran for miles, as far as the eye could see, a huge smoky, spiky mass of slightly shifting tendrils, terrifying and magnificent in equal parts. It seemed like the Hyperion had been lodged on it, with two of its wings driven in like hooks and holding it in place.

“Wow… would you look at that.” said Liam.

“It’s quite something.”

“If only we knew what it actually is…”

“Whatever it is, it stopped the Hyperion in its tracks.”

“It appears to be an unstable mass of dark energy” SAM’s voice came through their comms.

“If you say so…” Liam teased.

The comms sparked to life and the Pathfinder’s voice came through. “Steer clear of it.” The shuttle started shaking and rattling a little.

“Getting some chop here.” said Fisher.

“I got this” Kirkland said, soundong more confident. He made a quick positioning shift and the rattling stopped. “We’re clear.”

“Nice.”

Scott wasn’t entirely sure if that was the end of it. As the shuttle turned, it seemed to him like the tendril of the energy cloud shifted, a LOT. And it shifted towards them, like a finger pointing to something that caught its attention.

“Beginning our deceleration. Planet’s dead ahead”. The shuttle broke through the upper layer of Habitat’s 7 stratosphere and lit up all around with the heat of re-entry. “Hang on, initiating atmospheric entry.”

“Here we go!”

“Flight guidance is scrambled!” said Fisher, but Kirkland still seemed unfazed.

“It’ll pass.” he said reassuringly.

Scott had to admire the man’s confidence. He supposed if a person is good at what they do and they know their capabilities and limits there was no need to panic at every little thing that went wrong. And Kirkland definitely seemed good at it. Within a few seconds, they’d broken through the atmosphere, the heat around them vanishing and being replaced by…

_Chaos._

“Holy…”

The scene was unbelievable. Scott had caught the lightning flashes from the bridge, but seeing the effect up close was something else entirely. The planet seemed almost barren. Ravaged by lightning storms; multiple bolts striking the ground every second; jagged mountain peaks and sharp cliff drops; almost no vegetation in sight. This was as far from a golden world as a Vorcha was from an Asari. And were those… floating rocks?

“Uhhh, the mountains are floating.” Liam said, echoing his thoughts.

Kirkland seemed to be struggling with the shuttle controls. “Ionization levels rising dangerously,” came his voice from the cockpit.  He sounded a little less confident now. Definitely not good.

“Stay on course to the LZ” Ryder Sr. replied over the comms.

The team was getting antsy. It was immediately obvious that something had gone very wrong with Habitat 7 during their 600-year journey, more so than they’d realized earlier.

“Look. Port side!” said Fisher. Scott turned to look and knew at once what had drawn his attention. A great black and blue obelisk-like structure, that shot a wave of blue energy straight into the sky.

_Alien architecture._

“That has to be advanced engineering.” Cora said.

His father was relaying the observations and evidence of alien civilization to the Hyperion, then reiterated the contact protocols to the team. It was all getting real **very** fast.

And then, all hell broke loose. The shuttle jumped and sparks flew everywhere as Kirkland began shouting about energy spikes. The side door was ripped off violently, pulling Liam out with the first gust of air that began sucking out everything in the shuttle into the chaos below. He barely managed to hold onto the side of the shuttle, and Scott began activating his biotics to pull him back in, but the sudden change in pressure made him dizzy, and the outside winds were too strong. Before he knew what happened, Liam’s grip gave way and he was tossed out, while at the same time something in the shuttle exploded, launching Scott forward. He smacked his helmet against the edge of the shuttle’s torn-out doorframe and fell out.

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

Even through the ringing in his ears, all around him was a cacophony of noise, thunder, and shuttles, and debris, and fire. He was spinning, and spinning, and spinning, as he hurtled towards the planet surface completely out of control, arms and legs flailing.

“Acceleration increasing.” came SAM’s ridiculously calm voice in his ear.

“No kidding!”

“Your jump jet is malfunctioning.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

“Get it working!”

Even as he was panicking, his training instincts kicked in and he pulled arms and legs wide apart, so he could fall facing forward while breaking some of his falling speed. The floating rocks that they’d seen earlier were all around him now. He had to try to maneuver as best he could to avoid smashing into them, leaning first toward one side, then the other. The ground was approaching fast, and his speed was increasing. This was not looking good.

“Approaching terminal velocity.” SAM said unhelpfully.

“SAM!” he shouted. He wanted to do something, anything. His biotics flared up and he tried moving his arms to create a mass effect field; maybe a Singularity to slow him down. But he’d never been the best at making Singularities even when he wasn’t falling to his doom. His velocity was too high, and speed and gravity made it impossible to shift individual limbs in the complex patterns required for Biotics.

He was less than a hundred feet away from the ground now, and a mountain was coming up to meet him. Time was running out. Was this how he was gonna die? All the dreams, the hopes, the ambitions, all for nothing?

A sharp hiss came from his back, and his heart leapt with exhilaration as he recognized the sound of his jump jet kicking into gear. He put all his strength into shifting his entire body vertically with his feet toward the ground, then activated the jump jets at full thrust. The conflicting forces of the sudden deceleration made him queasy. The jump jet pushed upwards while the enormous amount of speed that he’d already picked up pushed downwards, making him feel like he’d get squashed in his suit.

Thankfully, it was just about enough to prevent him from becoming red paste on the mountainside. He hit it chest-first, at a steep decline. His vision dimmed for a moment and the air was knocked out of his lungs from the impact, as he tumbled downward to meet the ground on his face. He heard a crack as he landed, and breathing became very painful. The readings on his HUD were red and there was a horizontal crack in his helmet, the oxygen leaking out of the armor’s life support.

“Ah shit…” he panted.

Thankfully the adrenaline had prevented him from passing out. He held his breath and lifted the arm that had his Omnitool, then punched in a few commands setting the Omnigel to ‘3d fill - glass polymer’. He slowly and methodically passed it across his face, repairing the crack as it went, making sure to fill every little nook and cranny. The readings in his helmet HUD went green, and he began breathing again, as the oxygen flow resumed normally. He lied back down, staring at the sky and panting, taking deep breaths and trying to steady his racing heart rate. A futile task, he knew.

Lightning flashed just as he sat up, and he began checking himself for injuries. High adrenaline was great for biotics and generally sticky situations, but also made it very easy to break bones or tear muscles without realizing, since the body didn’t immediately recognize fatigue and numbed some of the pain.

Thankfully, it seemed like everything was intact. Arms, legs, all good and functional. His chest hurt like a motherfucker, and there would definitely be bruising on his ribs from where he smashed onto the cliffside. But he wasn’t about to complain. He was alive, and fully functional, nothing broken. Might as well have won the lottery.

He made to stand up, putting one hand on the ground, but paused halfway through the movement and grabbed a fistful of dirt instead. The gauntlets prevented him from feeling the texture of the soil. It was the first bit of soil he’d touched in a new galaxy, but it looked barren and decrepit. Nothing useful would grow here.

 He pushed up and took a good look around. The outcome of his fall seemed more and more like he’d **actually** won the lottery. The section of the mountain he’d fallen on was like a flat platform, ending in a sharp drop on the side, down into nothingness. A few feet to the left and his jump jet wouldn’t have helped at all. Huge rocks were floating in the distance, while the sound of crackling thunder accompanied by bright flashes surrounded him from all sides. There were alien-looking plants spread around, that looked like curled yellow tentacles sprouting from the ground.

He wanted to know if the others were ok, and activated his Omnitool. It glitched a little as the virtual buttons were pressed, probably from all the electromagnetic interference.

“This is Ryder, come in.”

No reply.

“Hyperion? SAM? Anyone there?”

He heard footsteps behind him and turned around, glowing blue and throwing up a barrier.

“Ryder! You’re alive!” said Liam, appearing behind a rock formation. Scott felt relief wash over him and let the barrier dissolve.

“Liam! Man, am I glad to see you!” he said and patted the guy on the shoulder as he approached. “I’m trying to contact the ark or the others, but I’m getting nothing.”

“Save your breath. SAM is offline, comm link is trashed.”

“D’you think they made it?”

“I don’t know, it was all a blur. Storms, shuttle split in two… This is like a nightmare.”

“Yea…” Scott sighed and looked around. “No way this is home…We should find some high ground, see if anyone else is alive. Come on.”

“Not sure if we wanna be the tallest thing around here” Liam joked as they headed off.

Scott huffed a laugh, then realized that Liam might actually have a point, and his amusement faded.

The two of them traversed the very hostile terrain. The ground was uneven, sometimes plain rock, sometimes slippery grass, and sometimes barren soil. There were patches of wild plants and weeds here and there, and a lot of those curly plants that he’d seen earlier, but no signs of the garden world plant life that should’ve been here. Scott activated his Omnitool and scanned as many specimens as he could while they walked. Even though SAM wasn’t available to analyze anything right now, the scan data would be stored locally, and available for later, so he might as well gather some info.

As he was moving around, the scanner highlighted something further down as a _known element_. That meant it was something from the Milky Way, i.e. from their shuttles. He walked up to it, Liam close behind. Turns out it was their team supplies, which had gotten mangled, burned and smashed.

“Damaged in the crash. No good to us now.” he said and moved a little further.

“There’s our comms device” Liam said. Scott rushed over to the QEC device his teammate was standing over. It didn’t look good, and had smoke and sparks flying out of it. He activated his Omnitool diagnostics and scanned it.

 _‘Severe damage, beyond field repair.’_ read the screen between glitches.

_As if it would’ve been that easy._

“No fixing this. Must’ve broken on impact.”

“Explains why we lost our SAM connection.” Liam shook his head as they continued onwards.

They walked and walked for what felt like ages, trying to keep up a good pace, while occasionally passing by more chunks of their shuttles, some of which were still on fire. The sound of multiple lightning strikes grew closer and closer, until they peered around a corner and saw what Scott could only describe as a ‘lightning field’.

Small and large bolts of lightning struck the ground at regular intervals, and the whole area was charged with electricity. Rocks were floating, suspended off the ground by who-knew-what-kind of force, and giving off small visible arcs. There was nowhere else to go but through it.

“Uh, what the hell is this?!” Liam said incredulously.

Scott could see what looked like a cave on the other side of the lightning field. If they could reach it, they’d definitely be safe in there.

 _But that’s a big ‘if’_ he thought.

“I don’t know, but we gotta get through it. Look for a pattern to the lightning strikes.” he said.

“All I can see is imminent death.”

 _He’s not wrong_ …

The lightning strikes were numerous, and they didn’t seem to strike any specific spot. They really seemed random.

“See that cave on the other side?” he said to Liam, who nodded. “We gotta run through this section as quickly as we can, and reach that.”

“How the hell do we do that? We’re gonna get fried!”

“Any other ideas?” Scott said and gestured around.

Liam went silent. They both knew there was nothing the way they’d come, and on their left-hand side was a sheer cliff that seemed about two-hundred feet tall; they couldn’t possibly hope to climb that. On their right there was a sheer cliff **drop**. THe two of thgem peered over the edge, looking down at  what seemed like inescapably deep ravines and endless chasms. If they fell down there, they’d probably keep going for ten minutes straight before they hit the ground.

Scott shivered and pulled back.

“Look I’m not looking forward to it either, but we can’t stay here and there’s no other way except through that cave” he said. “I can try and cover us with barriers but I've heard lightning is difficult to block. Especially if you don’t see it coming.”

“I think we might be able to see it coming” said Liam and Scott looked at him, puzzled. “Look there,” he added and nodded toward some floating rocks. Scott was about to ask what was special about the rocks.

But then he saw it. Unlike the other ones floating in midair that were fixed in place, these were slowly rising upwards as if they were being magnetized by something in the sky. Something like…

The scene lit up and – with an echoing crash – a lightning bolt struck the exact place were the rocks had been floating, shattering them to pieces.

“The rocks float upwards just before the lightning hits!” he called excitedly.

“Yup, ‘s what it looks like. I see more over there.”

Sure enough, more rocks were floating in the air where Liam had pointed, then three seconds later another lightning strike crashed down on the exact spot.

“Ok hold on a sec…”

Scott activated his biotics. The blue-purplish aura surrounded him and he flexed his fingers, feeling dark energy coursing through his body, ready to be channeled, and his adrenaline heightening. He jumped in the air, using his jump jet to propel himself upwards a little, then channeled a mix of a push & throw force under him to hover in the air for a few seconds. It worked like a charm. He lowered himself back down.

_Ok, next test._

“D’you reckon you can actually stop these things from cooking us?” Liam asked.

“Hopefully. Let’s find out.”

He raised his right arm and brought it across his chest to the left, palm facing down and fingers outstretched. He spotted the rocks floating towards the sky, and made a sweeping gesture across his body from left to right. The bright blue & purple energy manifested like a blanket over the floating rocks just before the lightning struck.

And the barrier did nothing. The bolt pierced straight through it and smashed the floating rocks to pieces. Scott frowned, and Liam’s eyes bulged a little.

“Yea... I don’t think that’ll work Ryder…”

“Hold on, let me try again.” Scott said. Scott could tell that the immense irradiated energy was too much for a thin barrier to stop. He stretched out his arms and raised both hands in front of his face, palms facing each other – one pointed downwards, and the other up. He looked around, trying to find the next lightning strike, but most of the small ones fell incredibly quickly. He only had a few seconds from the moment the rocks started lifting up towards the sky before a bolt fell.

_There!_

He closed his hands into fists and activated his biotics. As he felt the dark energy coalesce beneath his fingers, he quickly pulled his hands apart. It felt like he was pulling on a piece of malleable dough, and his barrier became clearly visible. Instead of being the standard ‘shield’ shape, it was angled upwards like a cone, and had a thick blue stretch of energy connecting it to the ground next to the floating rocks. It looked like an umbrella that had been turned inside out.

More importantly, it had the desired effect. Instead of piercing through it, the lightning traveled down toward the spine of Scott’s inverse umbrella barrier thing, and harmlessly dissipated on the ground, while the previously floating rocks clattered to the ground, unharmed.

“Nice!” Liam called and bumped his shoulder with a fist.

He tried doing the inverse umbrella barrier _–_ he really needed to come up with a better name for the thing _–_ a few more times, just to be sure he could pull it off quickly.

“Alright, I think I’ve got this, but it’d be best if we dodged it altogether. Let’s run through, and keep your eyes open.”

“Got it. Ready?”

Scott wasn’t sure if he was ready but he was the one who’d suggested this stupidity, so there was no other choice.

“Go!” shouted Liam and they began running, and running, and running for their lives. Lightning struck around everywhere, and Scott kept his eyes on the ground trying to spot floating rocks. Was he going to see it and react in time? He hoped he would, otherwise…

“This is crazy!” Liam shouted, part excited, part terrified.

“Welcome to Habitat 7!” Scott called back. This was a life and death situation but he had to admit it was exhilarating. He’d never felt more alive. But he had to keep focused otherwise that might change soon. “Keep moving!”

They’d almost reached the cave, when Scott spotted the floating rocks travelling upwards a little further down.

“Careful!”

“Yep, I see!”

It seemed like they’d both get clear of the lightning, so he didn’t throw his barrier up. He just vaguely registered a splashing sound under his foot.

Then, pain.

And a cry from Liam.

His foot spasmed as the electricity travelled through his leg from the large puddle of water he and Liam had both stepped in, then gave way as he tried to take a step. He managed to keep himself from falling all the way down, dropping to one knee instead and getting clear of the water (or whatever it was).

He turned and looked behind him. Liam was on the ground, trying to crawl forward on his elbows. He must’ve had both feet in water when the lightning struck, because his legs looked like they were having little seizures. And even worse, all around him, rocks and mud and water began floating upwards…

_Shit._

Scott couldn’t make the inverted _umbrella barrier_ , because Liam was lying in the puddle. If he redirected the lightning to hit the ground, it would fry him.

He reacted instictively and created a Pull field which he shot at Liam, lifting him entirely and sending him flying over Scott’s head and through the cave entrance. He immediately followed it up by putting up a soft barrier with ‘give’ against the wall to prevent the body from hitting it with the full force of the Pull. It worked, and Liam bounced off it, then fell on the floor with a thud and a grunt, as the lightning cracked down hard, on the spot where he had been just a second ago.

Scott breathed out a sigh of relief. He’d gotten him out of the way just in time, as the puddle of water was being lit up with little arcs of enegy.

He cleared the last few feet of distance toward the cave, limping as his leg’s nerve endings were trying to readjust to having been zapped and numbed. Liam moaned and pushed himself onto a sitting position just as Scott was coming in.

“Ugh… Shit that hurt!” Liam cursed.

“It’s safe under here.” Scott said and slumped against the cave’s walls, massaging his numb leg. “You injured?”

“Only my pride, and my jelly legs. Thanks for that quick thinking back there, totally saved my ass. Owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. Watching you flounder around like a slug was payment enough.”

Liam chuckled, and turned to look outside the cave at the field where they’d just come from. “Is this for real?”

“Electricity zapping through you didn’t convince you?”

“S’pose it did.”

They rested for five minutes to let sensation return to their limbs. Scott’s leg started feeling better, so he slowly stood up and tried putting his weight on it. It was a little weak, but it held, which meant the muscles were active again. He looked around the cave. Turns out it wasn’t an actual cave, more like a short tunnel. There were giant luminescent plants and mushrooms growing around. It was quite a sight to behold. Liam stood up as well, legs a little wobbly but walking. They moved further down the tunnel, towards the exit, and Scott spotted an indent on the wall, like a little side-chamber.

“Into the breach.” he said out loud as he walked through to take a quick look around. The area was awash in cyan light, from the flora all around it.

“I think I’d rather fall into an actual breach than get struck by lightning.”

“Give it a minute, we can probably do both. More glowing mushrooms here.”

“Are they making that noise?”

Scott hadn’t really noticed the noise until Liam pointed it out, but now that he had it was very obvious. And loud. It sounded like a massive machine was working somewhere, thousands of moving parts whining and grinding against each other. “No. Coming from inside the mountain.”

There was a narrow crevice in the walls, and it seemed like the sound was strongest there. Scott scanned it, even though he knew he’d only get the most basic of readings without SAM.

 _“Danger: High energy levels detected.”_ it read. No clue as to what kind of energy though.

“Detecting a lot of energy here. Can’t make heads or tails of it, but it’s powerful.”

“D’you reckon maybe we should step away from the powerful unknown energy and keep moving?”

“Probably a good idea…” he said.

And with that, they left the tunnel and the horrible lightning field behind them. Hopefully there’d be no more of that, but Scott wasn’t gonna hold his breath.

***

They reached some sharp ledges which they had to use their jump jets & biotics to clear. Scott pulled Liam up on the ledge. He got up and walked right past him, staring ahead. He turned too and saw what had caught Liam’s attention.

“Any idea what we’re looking at?”

The structure in the far distance was definitely the same obelisk structure that they’d seen on their way in, just before their shuttles exploded. It was still shooting the column of blue energy towards the sky, almost like a blue tornado that disappeared into the clouds. As they were looking at it a loud mechanical rumble came from its direction, and the energy exploded outward, shaking the ground beneath their feet and spreading thunder clouds outward. Scott had no answer for what they were seeing.

“Whatever it is, it’s our job to figure it out” he said.

“Sounds like your old man talking.”

“He was right, something went wrong here. We have to find out what.”

They walked a little further on their vantage point and looked down. There were flames below them, and… a shuttle. Or rather, half a shuttle.

“Ryder, it’s Fisher!” Liam said excitedly and began moving toward the ledge to climb down.

Out the corner of his eye, Scott spotted movement. And whatever was moving was definitely **not** Fisher. He ran forward and pushed Liam down before he could get to the ledge.

“Wait… look!” he said.

They peeked over the ledge and got a good look at the scene below. The shuttle was on fire, lying around in shambles, and two aliens were turning things upside down, kicking them out of the way.

They were unlike anything Scott had ever seen before. Bipedal and wearing dark green body armor; with head and arms covered by a white, tough-looking material, that seemed almost like an exoskeleton similar to the Turians’. He wondered if it could stop bullets. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to find out.

More importantly they held something in their arms, something that looked very much like _guns_. The way they were holding them pretty much confirmed that's what they were. Weird to think that even in another galaxy the way people held a gun was exactly the same.

_Some things never change._

_First contact_ protocol was clear. Do not open hostilities and do not draw weapons, unless you’re being attacked. And no deadly force unless fired upon.

Fisher was sat on the ground, with his back against the shuttle. He was keeping quiet and they hadn’t seen him yet, but it wouldn’t take the aliens long to find him. They had to act soon.

“How do we handle it?” said Liam.

“We follow first contact protocol.” Scott said and got up. “Just be ready if this goes south.”

“It usually does…”

They got to the ledge and climbed down. The aliens hadn’t seen any of them so Scott moved a little closer.

“Hello” he said and put his hands in the air, to show he didn’t mean harm. Hopefully that sign was the same in this galaxy as well.

The first alien was startled, and trained his gun on Scott immediately. He raised his hands a little higher and backed away one step.

“Niad shurid!” it shouted. The other one had just spotted Fisher and had a gun pointed at him as well, then gave him a hard kick. Scott pursed his lips in frustration. This definitely constituted ‘attack’, but he didn’t want to cause a diplomatic episode. The war with the Turians had started from a similar situation.

“We can’t understand you. Give us our man, or this gets ugly.” he said.

“Gosad!” it shouted back.

“What’s the other guy doing?” Liam called. Fisher cried out in pain as the other alien started punching and kicking him mercilessly, not holding back at all. “Shit they’re beating him!”

Scott always had little patience for bullies and what he considered as injustice, and this was definitely it. They had tried to negotiate peacefully but these guys had guns on them and were beating Fisher. He shouted for the alien to back off but it raised it's gun a little higher. It was about to pull the trigger on Fisher.

Scott felt his anger rising, and started glowing blue, then charged off in the blink of an eye. The second alien began shooting at him but it was too late, Scott had vanished from the spot, and Liam ducked behind cover.

As he travelled, Scott bent his elbow, pointing the tip forward and smashing through the skull of the one hitting Fisher. It was thick and sturdy, but cracked under the force of the biotics and his titanium armor with a sickening crunch, spraying green blood and bits of its skull out onto the dirt as it fell away from the shuttle. Turns out their heads were similar to bone – albeit much harder than a human skull – and therefore could be cracked. The other alien started shooting at him again, but his shields took the first couple of hits and he raised a barrier to stop the barrage. Liam got the cue and used the moment of confusion to shoot it in the head. It dropped dead like a sack.

Scott shook his arm to get rid of the green blood from his armor. “Okay, it’s over” he said. Liam knelt down beside their teammate.

“Fisher are you ok?”

“Thought I was a goner. So much for making peace with the locals. Thanks for jumping in.” he rambled. He seemed shaken and a little bruised, but otherwise was keeping it together. All things considered.

“I knew they weren’t the friendly sort.”

“We tried talking, guess they didn’t wanna listen.” Scott sighed. “What else could we do?”

Fisher groaned with pain. “You saved my life. And we still don’t even know what they want.”

“Nothing good, the way they were armed.”

“Who says we’d even understand? Or they’d understand us?” Scott said. “It’s a new galaxy. I guess it’s too much to expect that they’ll play by Milky Way rules.”

Liam shook his head and turned back to Fisher. “Where are the others?”

“Gone. Kirkland and Greer went looking for help.”

“Ok” Liam nodded. “C’mon let’s get moving.”

Fisher made a move to get up and then shouted a curse and slumped back down. “I can’t. My leg is broken. You guys push ahead and look for the others.”

Scott frowned. “You sure?”

“Yeah, just find us a ride out of here. And take a few more of them out while you’re at it.”

“Roger that.” he said. “We’ll send help as soon as we rendezvous with the others.”

Fisher grabbed his leg and made a painful wince, then smiled.

“I’ll be around” he mused.

Scott gave a mirthless chuckle.

***

A little further from where they’d found Fisher, Scott and Liam came across a short downhill slope, when they heard shouting.

More of these aliens, standing over something and shouting in their weird language.

“Please, I surrender!” came a voice in their local comms.

Kirkland.

But the aliens didn’t know or didn’t care what he had to say. The biggest one among the three pulled the trigger. Just like that.

No fanfare, no talking, no mercy.

And no time for either of them to react before they knew what happened.

Scott’s vision blurred with rage. He charged into the big one who had shot Kirkland, his palm outstretched like a knife, and running it right through its chest. He didn’t know if these fuckers had hearts – certainly didn’t look like it – but the hit killed it almost instantly, and it hung limply on his arm. The other two turned to shoot at him but he immediately spun around, grabbing the dead alien with his hand through the cavity he’d just torn in its chest and using it a like meatshield. It was heavy, but Biotics took the weight of the body so all Scott had to do was nudge it with his hand to redirect it. He activated two pull fields on the shooting bastards and they began floating, suspended harmlessly in the air, as he took out his pistol and shot them in the head.

No fanfare, no talking, no mercy.

He raised his leg and pushkicked the large one off his hand with disgust, shaking it off to rid it of the green gooey blood, then used three throw fields to scatter the alien bodies outward, away from Kirkland.

He kneeled over their teammate’s lifeless body. The head shot had gone clean through, and there was no mess other than the blood pooling beneath the man's head. Scott closed Kirkland's eyes with one hand and shaking his head, lips pursed and still fuming with rage. It wasn’t like he and Kirkland had been close or anything, but it was the unfairness of it all. Like all of them, this guy had come to Andromeda to seek out a new life, and a better tomorrow. Instead had found a premature end, for no reason whatsoever.

_So unfair._

“Peace isn’t going to be an option.” he said bitterly. “We’ll come back for his body once we find the others.”

Liam nodded in understanding, and gestured with his head to let him know that they needed to keep moving. “Take a look at this” he said.

In his rage, Scott hadn’t noticed what they were standing near. It was a structure similar to the obelisk they’d seen from afar, only this looked almost like a door. It was shimmering with blue and green energy. Scott ran his gauntleted hand over its surface. It felt perfectly smooth. Normally he would’ve loved to try and extract samples, but there was no time for that and his mood wasn’t all that great right now. He just scanned it and they pressed on.

Before they’d managed to get more than thirty feet away, they heard a bloodcurdling roar. They both froze midstep.

“Shit, did you hear that?”

“Wish I hadn’t,” Scott said and drew his pistol.

The sound had come from somewhere further ahead, but he couldn’t see anything in the distance. His eyes were frantically searching for any signs of danger on the horizon, when he caught the slightest movement in his peripheral vision and looked down in front of him. The ground was shimmering slightly, like the roads that emanated heat during the summer months on Earth. He peered a little closer trying to understand what he was seeing.

Then, many things happened all at once.

He heard a sharp guttural cry, and the shimmering turned into a four-legged _monster_. It lunged forward with jaws wide open and the smell of its rancid breath filling the air even through his helmet's air filter, and going straight for his face. Scott instinctively pulled his head back just as its jaws snapped shut noisily, mere inches away from his helmet; at the same time he used the backwards momentum of the movement to push off the ground with one leg and lift his left knee with the other, glowing with the familiar blue aura. He drove the point of his knee on the underside of the thing’s jaw and heard a loud crunch as it made full contact and cracked bone.

He lost his balance and fell backwards with a thud, breath knocked out of him. His vision swam for a moment and he felt something heavy move on top of him. He raised his pistol to shoot, it but heard three quickfire burst shots, and felt more weight dropping on him. His vision returned and he saw the monster lying dead on top of him and Liam standing over it, gun raised. 

Scott pushed the thing off him with a grunt and let his head fall back to the ground, panting. Liam carefully nudged the beast’s limp body with his boot. Then he gave it a hard kick.

“Ok, it’s dead…” he said. “You alright?”

“Yea.” Scott replied trying to dust himself off as he got up.

“This thing is the ugliest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen.” Liam said taking a good long look.

Scott looked at it as well. It was a weird animal of some kind. Its head looked like it had the same color and density as the bipedal aliens. Scott wondered at that.

“Its breath was as nasty as its looks,” he said.

“I bet. And that was one hell of a flying knee kick. Where’d you learn to do that?”

 “We could choose what type of martial arts training we wanted to do in my Biotics squad. I always thought Thai boxing was cool so I went with that. Hits use the sharp edges of the body so they work well with biotic amplification, especially after a Charge. Vanguards make good use of it.”

“Seems like they do” Liam replied nodding with appreciation, then looked down at the thing again. Both the shots and the knee kick had been a direct hit. Its jaw was smashed in half, and pieces of jawbone, skull, and green blood were scattered all around.

“I’d love to say it was skill, but honestly it was just a _knee-jerk_ reaction,” Scott said with a small smile.

Liam looked at him, and shook his head at the pun. “So lame.”

Scott chuckled in earnest. “Seriously though, I could’ve fallen backwards and missed the kick, which would’ve meant getting munched on” he continued as he scanned the thing. Organic lifeform, of unknown composition. “It looks very similar to these aliens we’ve encountered, which is odd seeing as they’re bipedal and this one is quadrupedal. It’s organic, no sign of technology.”

“Wow. So the cloaking is biological?”

“Yeah. Weird.”

“To be fair that word basically describes everything we’ve seen in Andromeda so far.”

He had a point. As they walked along, Scott considered all the things that could be classified as weird that they’d seen already. He’d been out of Cryo for a total of what? Four hours, maybe? And pretty much everything that had occurred could fit under that label. They continued walking along, now alert and cautious, ready to react at the first sign of danger.

As if to continue the _weird_ trend, they stumbled upon a cave that was green and lush, with vegetation growing abundantly all around, and a large tree with leaves that looked like a palm tree’s, in a bowl shape. Scott scanned some specimens and made sure to record what they saw, because this was quite the discovery. The environment that flourished in here seemed much more like the Garden World they’d been expecting when they set foot on Habitat 7. So why wasn’t the rest of the planet like this?

Static came through the comms and interrupted his curiosity. The two of them exited the cave and started following the signal to its source, slowly and carefully, making sure they’d avoid any other nasty surprises.

Turns out the source was Greer, who was cornered in a cavern with two of the aliens standing over him, shouting and – how surprising – pointing guns. The man had been smart and had been tapping his microphone, hence the source of the _static_.

Scott didn’t wait this time. The enemies hadn’t seen them approach, and he didn’t give them the chance. Unlike his previous outburst of rage, this time he was calm and calculated exactly how to execute the fight. All he needed to do was shoot two Pull charges and the aliens were helpless. Greer was quickly on his feet up and shot them both as they were suspended. He reached out a hand and shook Scott’s fervently as they approached him.

“Thank god you guys came. I was hoping beyond hope that someone would notice the mic static.”

“Good thinking, it probably saved your life. You ok?”

“Yea. Where are the others?”

“These fuckers killed Kirkland, but Fisher’s alive back at the crash site.”

“He’s got a broken leg, needs help.” Liam added.

“Ok, I’ll look around for supplies, then head back to him.”

Scott nodded. “Stay put when you get there. We’ll look for my dad’s shuttle.”

“Good luck Ryder. Can’t wait to get off this rock” said Greer and began rummaging around. The man was definitely practical, and wasted no time in getting back to it even though he'd almost just been killed.

 _At least he’s alive,_ Scott thought as he and Liam and headed off once again.

*

They’d been walking for about half an hour. The terrain was a complete mess and did not make for easy traversal and Scott’s legs were killing him. He kept forgetting that he hadn’t fully adjusted or recovered from cryosleep yet, and had approached combat as if he’d been fully rested.

His body was definitely punishing him for that now. That enraged charge had been a bad idea, and had just added to the overall feeling of fatigue. He took out a nutrition pack from his armor compartment, ripped off the top part and squeezed it into his mouth. The protein sludge tasted disgusting as always, but the nutritional value was immense, and Scott needed the calories right now. He was chugging down the last few gulps, as a voice came through the comms:

“SOS on frequency 154.3.”

Cora’s voice. Muffled, but definitely Cora’s voice. “Anyone there?”

“Cora we read you. You’re alive!”

“Shuttle repairs are underway, but we’re surrounded!”

“They’re not friendly, stay out of sight! We’re on our way!”

He marked the navpoint and broke into a run ignoring his painfully protesting legs, Liam following close behind. He ran until they started to reach an incline where the flat ground turned into a hill. The ground there was quite steep and unstable, with yellowish lichen growing on it. It made for very unreliable footing, so they had to be careful as they were trying to get up. The urgency in Cora’s message made it clear they needed help soon, but if they slipped and tumbled down, it’d take them even longer to get to them, so they climbed it as quickly but carefully as they could.

Thankfully neither of them slipped, and the ground finally evened out. They started running again, and heard the gunshots long before they reached the fight. Hopefully they'd made it in time.

He took a look around the combat area as they approached it. It was an open plain, lightning bolts occasionaly striking here and there, full of ridges and little chasms. He could see small pools of sulfur dotted all around, and the ‘shuttle 1’ squad taking cover behind whatever they could find; be that rocks, their grounded (but otherwise intact) shuttle, ammo crates, etc. He could see Dr. Carlyle, Cora and Hayes but not his father, which worried him a tiny bit. Thankfully they were all alive and for the moment seemed uninjured.

“We’re here, everyone ok?”

“I can’t take a peek out of cover, they’re trying to pin us down!” said Cora.

“Doing a good job of it too!” Hayes offered.

As Scott tried to take position and pick a target, one of the aliens saw him and shot at him. He heard the sound of discharge which meant his shields took the hit easily. Scott began glowing, ready to shoot the alien down but he suddenly felt nauseous, and swayed a little.

Another shot rang against his shields.

_Not good, the next one will probably go through._

The effects of cryo and fatigue were catching up to him, which meant he needed more time to recover. He ducked behind a rock and took out another protein sludge pack, chugging it down in big, urgent gulps.

“I’m still a little weak” he said, “I need ten minutes to recover, but I can provide cover fire in the meantime.”

He took out his pistol and did just that, aiming at whatever target he could see and shooting a barrage of bullets to prevent them from being able to shoot at the ‘shuttle 1’ group.

“Ryder, catch!” Liam’s voice came from somewhere in front and to his right. An M-8 Avenger assault rifle was flying through the air, and Scott caught it. “Cora, we’ve got you covered!”

“Nice, when did you get that?”

“Just now. Weapons cache at 2 o’clock, ran to it while you were busy playing ‘catch the bullet’ with your friend”. As if in response to his comment, the alien turned his attention to Liam, who quickly ducked back down behind his cover point.

Scott could lay down much better suppressive fire with the M8, which gave Cora a chance to use her Biotics without getting shot down. Between the five of them, they thinned the numbers of the aliens nicely. Cora was very skilled at combat, and being an Asari commando she was very good at using her Biotics, probably more so than Scott. She used Charge too, but differently. He used it mainly for the impact, using his body as a bullet, whereas Cora used it more to close distance, so she could then smash the aliens with powerful novas and shockwaves, amplified by the force of her charge.

When there was only one left standing it got up and aimed at Cora for a last stand, but Scott had it in his sights. He squeezed the trigger of the M8 in its direction and hit it in the arm. Cora charged off towards the alien and grabbed it by its uniform, using the momentum to pull it out of its cover position and off the side of the cliff. Poor bastard never stood a chance.

“Cavalry to the rescue, nice to see you guys!” said Dr. Carlyle, putting away his pistol and running over to Hayes, who still hadn’t come up out of cover. He’d taken down a few of the aliens himself, which was no surprise. Doctor or not, Harry Carlyle had seen a lot of war and combat in his day.

“You too Harry. Everyone ok?”

“Still in one piece. You got here just in time.”

“Where’s my dad?” Scott asked, getting nervous now that the immediate danger had passed and he could think.

“He went scouting ahead while we fixed the shuttle.” Cora replied.

Ok good _._ Scott hadn’t **_really_** been worried. His father might as well be invulnerable for all the shit he’d managed to live through. It would take a lot more than a crash and a few alien grunts to kill Alec Ryder.

“Did these guys try talking to you at all?”

“Barely a word, then started shooting. What about you?”

“We tried being nice, they didn’t play along. They shot Kirkland in cold blood.”

“Damn it…” said Cora and sighed. “What about the others?”

“Fisher’s wounded but sitting tight. We found Greer before the aliens got him. He should be with Fisher by now, but our shuttle’s in pieces.”

“Guys, Hayes has been hit.” Dr Carlyle interrupted. It looked like she’d taken a direct hit to the gut, and was bleeding pretty badly. He was carrying her in his arms, and gently put her down.

As he did, Scott saw rocks beginning to float upwards around the pair of them.

_Shit._

Cora had seen it too and must’ve known what it meant, because she rushed in and put up a barrier on top of them. It was a thin one, like the one he’d tried back at the lightning field.

Scott raised his hands just in time, and pulled his fists apart, creating the weird lightning rod umbrella thing that he’d come up with earlier, just as the lightning struck. It dissipated harmlessly as it channeled through the biotic construct, lighting it up with little arcs of electricity and blending together white, purple and blue colors in a brilliant display of energy. Cora looked at him puzzled, and he shook his head.

“Regular barriers don’t work for lightning. Definitely not on this planet.”

“Not sure I wanna know how you found that out, but nice one.”

“Thanks, both of you,” Harry said.

Hayes made a groan of pain. “Before the aliens attacked I managed to fix our comms” she said.

Cora patted her shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver. Now just take it easy.”

_Comms? Comms means…_

“SAM, are you there?” asked Scott, tapping his Omnitool to give SAM a nudge.

“QEC Link established. Affirmative, Scott. The Pathfinder needs to speak with you.”

The vid link switched on and his father’s helmeted face appeared. He’d never have admitted it out loud, but it was quite reassuring to see the Pathfinder alive and well and larger than life. His voice came clear through the comms:

“Good to see you in one piece. What’s our status?”

“Liam and I are with Cora.” he replied. She tapped her own Omnitool and linked herself into the feed.

“We have wounded crew. The good news is our shuttle’s been repaired. We can get back to the ark.”

Ryder Sr. shook his head.

“Not with these storms. It’s too risky to fly.” he said.

Scott looked over at Hayes. She looked in a bad way, and he knew Fisher wasn’t doing that well either.

“Our wounded can’t wait much longer” he said vehemently, then forced himself to adopt a calmer tone. Professional. “Do you have something in mind?”

“If the storm is the problem, then let’s solve the problem.”

He raised an eyebrow. What on earth – or on Habitat 7 – was the old man talking about?

“We’re talking about **weather** ” he said carefully.

“And I have an idea about that. Rendezvous at my coordinates we’ll –“

He turned his head suddenly to look at whatever had interrupted him. “Damn! They’ve spotted me!”

The commlink went out. _Fuck._

 _It’ll be ok_ , Scott told himself.

They had no idea who or how many had just ‘spotted him’ but his father could definitely handle sticky situations. When he was younger, Scott always heard the stories – from other people – about the N7 rank. He’d eventually met another N7, his old XO at the Relay station who was a real wizard with a rifle in his hands, and had unreal sharpshooting skills.

But his dad was N7 **and** a Biotic, and he’d never really seen him fight while growing up. He hadn’t appreciated what he could do until he and Sara convinced him to join the Andromeda initiative and they began training. Even then, he usually trained separately from them, but they did have a few joint sessions for coordination and crisis management, and Scott had to admit it; his old man had been downright impressive.

 _But how many enemies does impressive cover?_ he said and felt his stomatch flutter a little. They should to get to him as quickly as they could.

Cora turned to Dr. Carlyle and Hayes. “Can you two manage alone?” she asked.

“I can keep her stable.” He hesitated and then added “for a while…”

“Let’s move then.” She said to Scott and Liam. “SAM, do you have the Pathfinder’s position?”

“Marking the navpoint on your maps.”

“Doesn’t look very far. We have to get there before the storm hits, no detours.”

Scott looked toward the direction Cora was facing. She was right. There was a large swath of angry-looking black clouds on the horizon. They didn’t have much time to evacuate this hellhole, but his dad seemed convinced that he had a solid idea on how to fix that. Hopefully it was legitimate.

“What was my dad scouting for?” he asked.

“He was trying to get readings on that black tower.”

“Well the navpoint puts him near it,” said Liam, tapping away at his Omnitool.

“Exercise caution. The storm is already picking up intensity.”

The AI’s remark prompted a little smile from Scott, and he realized he was glad to hear SAM’s voice. It felt like another member of the team that they’d been missing til’ now was there with them again.

“Nice to have you back SAM.” he said as he, Liam and Cora headed off together to find his father.

***

The terrain did not get any easier to cross, but he felt his strength returning more and more as they walked. Those nutrition packs definitely did good work. His body still ached, but that wouldn’t change until he could take a hot shower and sleep for a couple hours...

 _Or ten_.

But sleep was still a long way away, since the mission was far from done. They passed what looked like a camp, set up by the aliens. They had lightning rods all around which seemed to work well, so lightning didn’t explain why so many of the aliens were lying dead all over the place. There were at least a dozen of them. Scott poked one with his foot, then bent down and examined its wounds. There were bulletholes with black burn marks on its body, and he could sense faint traces of dark energy, which could mean only one thing. As expected, there had been no point in worrying about his father’s safety.

“Incendiary rounds.” he called back to the others. “My dad’s been busy!”

“N7 don’t mess around.” Cora said impressed.

His lips stretched into a smile. “Don’t I know it… My commander at the Relay station was N7 too.”

“Must’ve been a hell of an assignment.” Liam chimed in.

“Oh it was…”

“Tell us over a beer sometime.”

“Deal.”

They reached two sharp ledges at the edge of the camp. The navpoint was just beyond those, and Scott propelled himself with a couple biotic jumps and cleared them easily.

And there he was.

Still in his N7 armor, and not a scratch on him. He’d lain waste to a dozen enemies all on his own and was just standing there like it had been another day at the office.

Well, he wasn’t technically standing, he was crouched down. The three of them approached, and he raised an armored finger to his lips, then gestured downwards with his hand. Stay quiet, and stay low. They all got the gist and approached him wordlessly, peering over the ledge alongside him.

About a hundred feet below, there was a large building that looked like some sort of military base, at the bottom of the black obelisk tower. It had lightning rods and what looked like energy barriers erected all around it. Oddly-shaped supply crates and other equipment – including more lightning rods – were strewn about in a haphazard way and many of the (now familiar) aliens were running patrols up and down.

Cora lowered her voice to a quiet murmur:

“Sir, you said you had an idea about the weather?”

“SAM has run some calculations, based on surface readings we’ve acquired in the last three hours. That dark energy cloud the Hyperion hit is affecting the whole planet. Interfering, with that.” he  said, pointing at the tower. The blue vortex of energy shooting up in the sky from its top seemed to shimmer, with orange light all around it. Orange, like the color of the cloud when they saw it from the Hyperion’s deck.

Sam explained further:

“The tower is caught in a feedback loop with the cloud. Together they’re disrupting the entire climate with undirected energy. The constant lightning strikes.”

It made sense.

“We found a cave” Scott said. “It had lush plant life sheltered from the storm. From that… tower. That would explain it.”

His father turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Good job, you actually did some scouting”.

Scott raised an eyebrow in return. His father didn’t often offer compliments, so he wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. He decided to take it in a good way.

“It’s what we came here for isn’t it? _Exploring the unknown_ , you said.”

“Glad that sunk in. When things go to shit it’s easy to forget that kind of thing.” Ryder Sr. said somberly. “And yea, it’s a good bet that the cause is the same. I think if we get in that tower and shut it down…”

“The lightning goes away.” Liam finished.

Scott didn’t want to be negative, but this sounded… hopeful, at best.

“But… this is alien tech we’ve never encountered or interacted with before.” he said carefully, “How are we going to shut it down?”

“Hopefully that’s where SAM comes in.”

“I’ve managed to analyze the structural patterns of the alien architecture we’ve encountered thus far” SAM said. “I believe the precision of the structures indicates that they were not built by organic hands, but by complex and incredibly accurate synthetic datasets and algorithms.”

“So, another AI?”

“Quite possibly. Unless the organic beings who created these were of a Type-3 civilization, this precision could only be matched by Artificial Intelligence operators, which I should be able to match.”

“Isn’t it gonna be dangerous?” Cora asked.

“That is unknown.”

That didn’t really make it sound better.

“We’re banking on science we don’t really understand. What if the theory is wrong?” Scott said.

“The alternative is 85% chance of death from lightning strike, capture, or worse.” SAM replied.

Okay, that did make the alien tech sound a lot better.

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“I’d have liked to study this place over a longer period of time, but time is the one thing we don’t have,” his father cut in. “Wounded crew and a storm of increasing intensity is very bad news for us. So we’ll have to take some risks.”

Scott nodded reluctantly. He was right. They were running out of time, and the black clouds in the sky seemed to move closer by the second. His father continued:

“If this works, then the shuttle can get us out of here. We just have to get past them.”

The alien’s base building was big and there were a lot of them around, at least thirty from what he could see at a glance. The bolts kept zapping the lightning rods, now almost as frequently as they had on that _field_ that he and Liam had crossed earlier.

Liam turned to look at him. “You ok to fight now?”

Scott nodded. “Yea, the protein sludge packs have given me a solid boost.”

“Good, cos we’re vastly outnumbered.”

“Me and SAM have been working on that” Ryder Sr. said. “We just need to change the math. SAM?”

“On it, Pathfinder.”

Before Scott could wonder what it was that they had been ‘working on’, loud crackling sounds came from the camp below. Within seconds it lit up like a fireworks display. All the lightning rods overloaded with static charge and exploded in showers of sparks and zapping. The aliens were startled, but barely had time to realize what had happened before lightning started raining down on their heads. Ryder Sr. jumped down the cliffside, sliding downhill towards the camp and Scott and the rest jumped down after him.

“Get in diamond formation, and beware of the lightning strikes cos barriers don’t block them. That energy cloud makes them more potent for some reason.” his father said as he began shooting at the aliens who were busy fleeing from the sky’s relentless fury.

“Scott has figured out a way to stop them, sir” Cora said.

“Has he now?” said his father, sounding amused but genuinely impressed. “Scott, you’re on lightning guard duty. Cora, Liam, you help me clear these guys out.”

“Yes sir!” came three replies at once.

They fell into diamond formation comfortably. Scott’s father took point, his marksmanship with an assault rifle just as impressive as his aim with Biotics. Liam and Cora were positioned on either side of him, and Scott was on their flank, maintaining his biotic construct which prevented the lightning strikes from burning them to a cinder.

The aliens did not have the same ability. Between the bolts burning them to a crisp and the three trained combatants mowing them down, their ranks had gotten decimated in just a few minutes. The four of them reached the bulk of the alien building promptly and stepped in. A few stragglers had managed to huddle inside.

“SAM, Biotic Adept interface mode” his father called, and shot out a Singularity that pulled the aliens from behind their cover, suspendedhelplessly in the air. He instantly shot out what looked like multiple thin strips of biotic energy from his hand in quick succession. They pierced cleanly through the aliens’ heads, killing them instantly. His shields crackled as if they’d been deactivated, even though no one had shot at him.

 _Downright impressive_ , Scott thought again with a little grin.

The group ran up a long ramp that led to some other chambers the aliens had built, and exited those on yet another upwards slanted ramp. This place was bigger than it had seemed from that cliffside.

They finally reached a platform halfway up the tower that was different from the aliens’ buildings. This was outdoors, and built similarly to the rest of the black tower, with doors identical to the ones he and Liam had spotted earlier. The only difference was that these doors were truly massive, easily three times his size. Jagged edges, polished surfaces, and the huge black tower that shot energy out into the sky made for a surreal vision like nothing they could ever have expected when they left the Milky Way.

Ryder Sr. walked up to a console in front of the doors, and instructed SAM to start decoding the language to gain access. As if they’d been waiting for that, alien dropships began arriving with more ground troops.

“I need to get through this door. Keep them off my back!” shouted Ryder Sr.

That meant it was up to Scott, Liam and Cora to take care of the aliens.

“Guys, get in position. Let’s do this like we trained for” Scott said.

They all got behind cover. Liam prepped some of his grenades, and Cora nudged Scott.

“I’ll prime, you detonate.” she said, and he nodded.

The fight broke out in full force within seconds, but the three of them worked together like a well-oiled machine. That had been the point of their training of course, but it felt good to see it work in real, life-threatening action, rather than against VIs with built-in failsafes. Cora would throw out a Singularity, Scott would detonate with a Throw, Liam would toss a grenade. Cora would Pull two or three enemies making them hover helplessly, Liam would shoot and Scott would shockwave them away, dead and full of bullets. Liam would shoot a Cryo Blast, and Scott would Warp - shattering them while they were frozen. They took down many of them, but there almost seemed to be no end to them. Besides that, the aliens were smart and wised up to their combat tactics quickly.

They began leaving larger distances between them, so they wouldn’t be caught in the same biotic effects. The platform had two sides that allowed access to it, one being the side where the four of them had come from and the other being a long walkway which circled around and fed back into the alien base. Their troops started moving around trying to overwhelm them from both sides, but Scott wasn’t born yesterday.

“They’re going for a pincer maneuver! Liam take point at 9 o’ clock, Cora at 3.” shouted Scott. “I’ll support where needed.”

“Copy.”

“You got it.”

The positioning choice was solid, and they had both cover and a vantage point, so at first it looked like nothing could get past the three of them. The aliens brought in a couple of heavy hitters that held huge machinegun-like weapons, but between Cora’s singularities and Liam’s excellent shooting they managed to take down one of them while the other was reloading.

Then the aliens started switching up their tactics again. The grunts gathered around their remaining heavy, protecting it with their bodies as it shot a barrage of bullets toward the trio. Liam and Cora had to duck down and huddle closer together on the right side of the platform, breaking their formation. Scott did the same.

“Liam, grenade. Cora, when you get a chance get in there and make some Charge and Nova havoc. I’ll keep an eye on the left side where we’re exposed.”

Liam nodded and took out a grenade, biting the pin off with his teeth and throwing it over their cover point.

“My pleasure!” Cora shouted trying to be heard over the endless sea of gunfire that had them pinned to the spot. The grenade went off and the bullet storm ceased for a moment. She was off before you could say ‘Asari’. Liam shot up from cover to provide suppressing fire.

As Scott got up himself to go and cover their right side he heard another guttural cry, the very same one that they’d heard earlier that day.

And the cry meant a jump for the kill. The next five seconds had been a blur.

He’d barely had time to spot the faint shimmering and bending of light which meant a cloaking ability, less than ten feet away from his father. He lit up with energy and charged at the location, elbow coiled for a strike. He’d just done the first thing that came to mind but it had been a risky move, and even as he executed it Scott was thinking that it would’ve been better to have gone for a projectile. The charge needed the user to transfer the momentum and speed at the end of the move, be that with another biotic ability or a direct hit, to pass the kinetic energy onto the target. Otherwise, that momentum could cause you to travel much further than you intended and injure yourself. Which was basically what was about to happen, since the damn thing was practically invisible and he’d had less than a second to react.

He hit it just as it leaped through the air to attack. The hit didn’t connect properly – his elbow skimmed the top of its flanks – and Scott spun over it with all the remaining momentum that his body still carried. Thankfully it had landed well enough to throw the monster off balance and send it careening off to the side. He heard it cry out in pain and saw it come in full view as its cloaking was disrupted, just as he landed on his back a few feet away. His head smacked against the hard metallic floor, cushioned only a tiny bit by the padding on the inside of his helmet.

 _That’s gonna be a hell of a headache,_ he thought as he groaned in pain.

But there was no time to ponder the thought. The beast was still alive and very, very pissed. It recovered quickly then went for him before he had time to do much; lunging, then biting down hard on his shoulder. Scott yelled in pain, as his titanium-layered armor gave way under the immense pressure of the beast’s jaws, bending and tearing into his shoulder. He reached for his pistol, just as a thin blue strip flashed across its skull, spraying his helmet visor with green goo. The pressure went away at once, and the thing thudded to the ground lifelessly.

The sound of gunfire had pretty much died down as well.

“Scott, are you ok?!” has father called to him. He hadn’t moved from his position, but had his hand raised toward his direction, arm still glowing purple and blue, the energy slowly fading down.

“I’m fine.” Scott called back. “How long till we get access to that thing?”

“Almost there. Cora, Liam, status report.”

“AAARGH!” came a yell from Cora as she smashed the last remaining alien away. “Clear, sir.”

“Clear.” Liam confirmed.

“Good job. Regroup.”

The two of them started walking over toward the center of the platform, their step getting a little more urgent as they saw the state of Scott’s armor. He got up and raised his hand, to signal that he wasn’t seriously injured, even though it hurt like a motherfucker. The metal on his shoulder pad was still bent inwards from the creature’s bite, so tore it off to stop it squeezing into his shoulder, wincing in pain as it moved off. It would definitely leave a bruise.

“Good job, team” he said to Cora and Liam. “Stay vigilant, keep a lookout”. They both nodded as Scott approached the Pathfinder. The doors hissed and slid open just a fraction.

“They’re jammed” he said. “Scott, help me push them open. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yea I’m fine” he said, then immediately regretted it as he went over and put his fingers through the crack. That shoulder hurt, a lot. What the hell had he been trying to prove?

 _Oh well too late now. Suck it up, ‘big man’_ he thought, chiding himself.

He pulled up with all his strength, his shoulder screaming in agony, protesting his silly display of machismo. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Damn those doors were heavy.

“D’you really think we can shut this thing down?” he asked, trying to take his mind off the pain and his stupidity.

“I don’t know yet. SAM’s decoded part of the language. Now we’ll see if I can have a conversation.”

“Who do you plan on talking to?”

“Like SAM said, it’s not a **who** , but a **what** ” his father said. They both strained with the effort of pushing them open. Once they got them a quarter of the way there, the rest of it just slid open.

“Guys, cover each side of the platform. We should expect more drop ships” said Scott to Cora and Liam.

“Roger.”

“Roger that.”

“Shout if enemies approach. We’ll…” he didn’t manage to finish his sentence.

_Whoa…_

What they were looking at inside the chamber was breathtaking. A huge pyramid-shaped room made of the black metallic material, with a blueish sheen and an almost unnatural smoothness. SAM had been right, no organic hand could ever have manufactured something like this. Thousands of small energy pathways were lining the floor, the walls, the ceiling, transferring energy in visible little arcs, back, and forth, and criss-crossing with each other. Thin light sources were placed horizontally along the bottom edges of the walls, illuminating the area around them efficiently, like the emergency exit lights that you could see around the Presidium. And in the middle, a triangular casing made of a light-colored metal, and containing another triangle shape, shimmering and pulsing with energy. At first glance Scott thought that the inner section was made of pure light, but looking at it again he noticed lots of smaller shapes extending out from its core, like small white ‘letters’ that grew in size then disappeared when they reached the edge. It looked ancient, and reminded him of electronic circuits. If this whole thing was a computer like SAM and his father claimed, then this was definitely the ‘CPU’ chamber.

The Pathfinder took a few steps forward and approached the glowing object slowly, almost reverently. He turned back to look at him, and Scott could see a smile around his eyes as he made a gesture with his head, signaling for him to approach as well.

“Come on. These are the moments that make it all worthwhile.”

Scott couldn’t agree more, and he slowly approached as his father spoke up again. “SAM, begin translating.”

“A moment… Indexing…”

Looking at it from up close, Scott could see that the casing itself wasn’t actually a single object like he'd thought. It was made of thousands upon thousands of smaller, metallic triangles that spun around and reflected the light from the walls. The whole thing pulsed and quivered, and all the little parts it was made of moved every few seconds in a single diagonal line along the object’s surface, like a wave disrupting the surface of a very calm ocean.

“Translation complete.” said SAM.

“Let’s see what we have.”

The pathfinder reached out a hand and his Omnitool glowed with the gesture. As it did, a holographic image of smoky, orange tendrils spread out from the Omnitool and reached each of the corners of the casing. It looked beautiful, and terrifying, and almost identical to the energy cloud that the Hyperion had hit, on a smaller scale. There had to be a connection there.

As each tendril touched the edges of the construct, the corners briefly lit up with energy. Then, three huge lines appeared, forming yet another triangular shape that reached from the floor to the ceiling enveloping the casing and the ‘processor’. A loud rumbling sound came from outside – like an energy blast – and then… silence.

It took Scott a moment to realize that this was **actual** silence, not just the absence of enemies and shooting and shouting. He turned to look outside, and sure enough… The lightning had stopped. He walked out, barely able to keep his excitement contained and looked up at the sky, his father right next to him. Clouds were pushing outward as if the strongest wind had just begun blowing. No lightning. No thunder. No storm. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

 “I’ll be damned, it’s working!” he said. “You did it!”

His father reached out a hand and patted his shoulder. It made him wince a little but he ignored it, way too excited to care about pain.

“There’s hope, at least.”

 _The understatement of the year_! he thought. But it was typical of Alec Ryder to downplay his accomplishments. Even when he literally fixed **_the weather._**

“This is more than hope – It’s proof that we weren’t crazy. We can fly to a whole new galaxy and still make sense of things!” Scott replied. And it was true. It meant that all the stuff that’d gone wrong hadn’t been for nothing.

“SAM had a little something to do with it.”

“Of course. SAM you’re **awesome**!”

“It was simply a matter of linguistics. Though I am pleased to have – “

SAM’s sentence was interrupted by a loud mechanical whirring noise from the chamber they’d just exited. They turned towards the sound and saw a blue cloud being dispersed towards them. The next instant a huge shockwave slammed into them, knocking them off their feet backwards and off the platform.

All Scott had heard was a loud crack, the sensation of falling, and wind on his face.

He’d probably passed out for a moment, because he didn’t remember hitting the ground, but he was facing the now-clearing sky as he opened his eyes. His shoulder had redoubled its frantic pain, and his face was damp and cold…

 _My… face? Not… good,_ he thought in a haze and made to push himself up on his elbow. Then the realization struck him. His helmet was cracked.

This wasn’t a small crack that he could seal up with Omnigel like when he first landed on Habitat 7. It was well and truly shattered to pieces, leaving nothing but small shards of glass where the visor should be. He tried breathing in, but the air… the air wasn’t breathable here.

He turned on his stomach and tried pushing himself up on all fours as he began to gasp and choke, his mind too frenetic to understand much else of what was happening. Lungs felt heavy as he inhaled whatever element this atmosphere was made of. It definitely wasn’t oxygen. His survival response kicked in and het scrambled around frantically, trying to do something, something to stay alive, anything. He clawed at the ground and grasped his throat, choking and coughing and spluttering, trying in vain to maintain consciousness, breath, _life_. His panic hit a crescendo as he came face to face with the inescapable realization that he was truly, genuinely going to die.

And there was nothing he could do.

He was gonna die here, on the first planet they got to, just after seeing the hope for their people with his own eyes. He was glad Sara wasn’t there. She might not be awake yet but her vitals were steady, safe, back at the Ark. No lightning, no aliens, no energy clouds, no pain, no choking. But boy would she be pissed at him for dying in such a lame way before she woke up. Before they’d even had a chance to look for the stupid mushroom.

His chest felt like it was on fire, like each pointless attempt at taking in air was an attempt at swallowing down a bucket of hot molten magma, immolating him from within, from trying to breathe in what his body couldn’t possibly process.

He wished his father was there with him. He didn’t want to die alone.

Once again, as if summoned, Alec Ryder came into view. Scott’s eyes were watering – whether from lack of oxygen or actual tears at his impending death he didn’t  know – but his vision was starting to get blurry. He could just about make out the shape and colors of his dad’s N7 armor.

He was limping, but aside from that he seemed like he could move freely, which meant his armor and life-support were intact. He would make it. Scott reached out a hand to him but didn’t have the strength to keep it up, so quickly lowered it back down.

 _Please, just stay with me,_ he wanted to say. But there was no breath, and there were no words. There would never be words again, not from him.

“Repeat, we need an emergency extraction!” he heard him say.

_Too late for that… Please, dad, just…_

Cora’s voice came through the comms link in his ear: “They’re spinning up the shuttle. ETA is 3-4 minutes”.

“We don’t have that long” Ryder Sr. replied, and bent down to Scott’s eye level.

_Dad, it’s fine, just stay here…_

This was it. His vision was fading by the second, and his life was ebbing away. He was ready.

But…

His father did something, and all Scott could see was his hands moving towards his head, and then down towards Scott.

 _Is his helmet cracked too?_ he thought in a haze. But no, that wasn’t it. His hearing hadn’t gone yet and he heard a loud hiss, like the seal on his armor had broken and was depressurizing.

He felt the sensation of something being pulled from his head, and something being lowered back down.

And he understood.

His mind went into a hazy frenzy. He wanted to move his hands; to speak; to tell him to stop being stupid and keep his helmet on; to say that it didn’t matter if Scott was lost; that the Pathfinder had to live; that it was **way** too late for him already; **SOMETHING.**

But his body wasn’t responding. The only response he got was his lungs trying to compensate and provide his heart with the oxygen it so desperately needed. He felt the fire in his chest subside slightly, replaced by a cool sensation like ointment on a burn, but he knew the damage had already been done. He was losing consciousness.

“Initiating transfer.” came SAM’s voice in his head.

His father said something that Scott couldn’t catch. His eyes focused for a single second, and the last thing he remembered seeing was Alec Ryder smiling at him warmly as he fell on the floor in front of him.

_You old fool… You could never accept that your family might die. And now we’ll both be gone…_

And Scott Ryder’s final achievement would be having taken his father with him to the grave.

 _What a fucking legacy_ , he thought as he drifted away into eternal slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly this took ages to finish. Hope you all like it! As always, I'm open to feedback.  
> Apologies for taking longer with this chapter, but it turned out to be HUGE, almost three times as big as my regular chapters, but I wanted to do a play by play of Habitat 7 since it's the first planet Scott lands on and quite important for him.
> 
> Note 1:  
> We've bumped the rating up to Explicit. This is first due to the graphic combat and injury scenes of which there will be many (because it was a ton of fun writing action scenes like that) and second... well. You all know the other reason for an Explicit rating. It'll take a while, but we'll get there ;)
> 
> Note 2:  
> 1\. I've decided two things: We'll likely do full play by plays of the major missions at least in all the habitats, and eventually spice things up with stories and character arcs of my own making in some of those missions.
> 
> 2\. Im taking more time to write at the level of quality I want, since I work a full time job and chapters take many, MANY hours to write, edit, check, read and re-read multiple times etc. The last chapter had some spelling mistakes and stuff that's inexcusable for me. My number one priority is making this an awesome story that I'd love to read, and I don't want to do a rush-job just to tick a box. I will however release stuff sooner if I finish a chapter earlier - i.e. when I'm on holiday and can write to my heart's content.
> 
> Note 3:  
> Hurray for taking liberties with biotics!!! I effing love that shit. Writing about Biotics-related stuff and trying to make it all make some kind of actual sense is really fun.
> 
> Note 4:  
> Scott's Muay Thai training I felt fit the Vanguard specialty quite well, seeing as they need to be effective at close combat. Also I used to do it myself, and it's incredibly enjoyable with powerful hits.
> 
> Note 5:  
> You might've noticed we left the initial Kett base and Remnant bot encounter out of this chapter. That's because a) it was way too big already, and b) I want all that Remnant stuff to be fresh to Scott and co. on Eos.
> 
> Note 6:  
> I also changed the scene with Cora, Hayes and Dr. Carlyle cos I did not like that Scott just went “take cover, take cover” in the game like a fool instead of protecting those two. I call bullshit, especially when Scott is Biotic. Also, we obviously do not know the actual properties of dark energy in real-life physics and how it would interact with lightning bolts (i.e. Plasma), but it makes sense to me that a thin layer of any kind of energy wouldn’t be able to stop something as concentrated as a lightning strike.


	6. Sins of the father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott tries to make sense of things after the mess on Habitat 7.
> 
> “The present is the product of the past, but also the seed of the future."  
> \- Unknown

He sat upright in SAM node, thinking, casting his mind back, way back. Through that time nearly two years ago when so much had changed…

Scott had spent his days in the Alliance Navy near Arcturus station guarding Relay 202. It was a great assignment in terms of action, he had no complaints there. They got into a lot of skirmishes against outlaws, both human and Batarian. Sometimes they even fought with Krogan mercenary groups who fancied their chances at smuggling. It was usually weapons. Or drugs. Anything from Red Sand to more dangerous and rare stuff like Minagen X3 and Hallex, which apparently were becoming “emerging markets” for the galactic drug trade.

Most of those groups thought they could quickly and stealthily jump through the Relay into the contested space beyond. Since the Alliance couldn’t risk turning skirmishes to all-out war, these fuckers knew that if they made it through they’d be pretty much untouchable. Scott’s unit was there to make sure that didn’t happen.

Precisely **because** Relay 202 led into contested space, the Alliance wasn’t fucking around with the guard there. Most of the people were trained specifically to disrupt and intercept highly skilled and violent criminals. To top that off, the station’s commander was an N7, just like his dad, and – also like his dad – did NOT fuck around when it came to combat prowess and leadership ability. He was a decorated soldier, and had made himself a name from a young age. Scott couldn’t remember the details, but apparently the man had held off a large mass of enemies during the Skyllian Blitz. Whatever the specifics, the man was definitely living up to his reputation. The mercs – who were usually slightly smarter than the smugglers – often tried to press them from multiple fronts to stretch the squads thin. So there had been a few times where the Commander would join them out in the field, providing long range support with his unparalleled marksmanship. Him and his lethal M-8 Widow were always a sight to behold. The man never missed a shot. Never a wasted bullet, and never a dull moment.

But when things occasionally got quiet, Scott would pass the time gazing at the Relay, watching people go through and wishing he could do the same. He’d spend hours daydreaming, imagining what it would be like to be one of those pioneers who first took the leap into the unknown. Imagining the fear and awe that Jon Grissom – and his father – must’ve felt when crossing the Charon Relay, not knowing if they would or could return, but willing to take the chance for the greater good and the advancement of mankind. He wasn’t a pro-humanist like those ‘Cerberus’ people or anything, but that kind of thing always filled him with pride for the indomitable spirit of humanity. More than that, it also left him wanting to emulate that spirit.

 _One day…_ he’d always tell himself.  
  
***  
  
He and Sara were two years into their service when their mother fell ill. She found out first, and wanted to be the one to tell him.

He was in his quarters, prepping to leave for an assignment away from the station. They’d received a tip from undercover Alliance agents that a drug smuggler ship was going to try and slip near - but not through - the Relay, unnoticed, and they had to intercept them. He was stuffing supplies in a duffel bag when her face appeared on his Omnitool under _incoming vidcall_. It set off alarm bells in his head straight away, since it was a Friday, which was one of her busiest days at the research outpost.

The vidcon came on with a buzz and displayed his twin’s face. She was visibly upset. Had she been  crying? She must’ve, her eyes were red and her nose was puffy. Scott’s heart lurched and his first reaction was that something happened to her, that someone had hurt her.

He asked, but she told him she was okay. And then…

Then she told him about their mom. About how she’d been sick for a while, and how her and his dad had moved back to Earth so they could get better medical care for her. How she’d gotten progressively worse, and how the doctors had told her a couple of days ago that she had just under six months left to live, so they’d finally decided to tell her and Scott.

His face went blank, and he stared through the semi-transparent omnitool interface into the void beyond. He must’ve been like that for a while, cos’ Sara, seeing his shock and silence  called out to him and told him to ask for Emergency Leave, that she’d done the same already and was on a shuttle, on her way back to Earth.

Scott felt numb. All he could do was nod. The words “I’ll see you soon” came out of his mouth, but it didn’t sound like it was him. It sounded like another man had said it, with his lips, from somewhere far away.

His head went fuzzy for the next hour. All he could remember was the words “AEND”, “terminal illness” and “just under six months to live” playing in his head over and over and over again. He stood up and started walking, going where his feet took him, then stopped in front of a heavy metal door. He found himself staring at the nametag. _Commander Shepard._ He knocked twice.

“Come in” said a voice.

Scott hesitated. He didn’t even know how to process this, much less tell anyone else…

Would the commander understand? Scott didn’t even look sad. What if he said no? What if he thought Scott was making things up? Maybe he should just go on the assignment… He remembered Sara’s face on the vidcon. His dad would probably be devastated too, and knowing him, he probably wouldn’t show it to anyone and just bottle it all up or bury himself in work. He did that at the best of times, much less now...

 _No, I… I have to be there. For them both,_ he thought.

The thought felt wrong for some reason that he couldn’t really pinpoint right now. He’d figure it out later. Now he had to–

The door opened in front of him.

“Ryder! I thought I heard a knock, wasn’t sure if I was going insane.” Shepard said musingly. “Come on in” he added and went back into the room.

Scott followed him in and closed the door behind him. He stood at attention, gaze on the floor.

“At ease, soldier” said Shepard quizzically as he sat down behind his desk. Scott lowered his hand. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be prepping for the shuttles?”

“I… yes, sir, I should be but… something’s come up.”

The Commander picked up on his blank expression and frowned slightly. He must’ve sensed something was very wrong.

“Take a seat,” he said. “Everything ok?”

Scott sat down. “Not exactly, sir. I just had an emergency call from my sister.”  

“Is… she ok? She’s in the Alliance too, right?”

“Yes sir, and yea she is fine.”

“Ok, so what was the emergency?”

“My mother is dead.”

Shepard’s eyebrows shot up and he froze for a moment. So did Scott. As the words came out, his stomach felt like it’d dropped to his ankles. The realisation of what he had said, and what the situation was, finally sunk in. His vision blurred for a moment and he felt like he was going to be sick. He clamped down on his stomach with one hand as if trying to hold it together physically, and took a deep breath through his mouth, letting it out through his nose. **That** was what had made that earlier thought about ‘being there for his sister and his father’ feel… wrong. He was thinking and talking like his mom was already dead! He welled up at the realization and had to blink to clear his eyes.

Shepard’s initial shock subsided, his expression changing in an instant from surprise, to sorrow, then to sympathy. He opened his mouth to speak, but Scott had to correct himself first so he jumped back in:

“I’m sorry, I meant…” he cleared his throat, trying not to choke on his words. “I meant we just found out she’s terminally ill. She’s only got six months left to live, sir…” As he spoke, his mouth had completely dried up, and it felt like something was lodged at the back of his throat. Something large and sharp and bitter. Talking was becoming increasingly hard. His eyes started to sting again, dampness following close behind.

“I’d like to…” he stammered. Why was forming a coherent sentence so fucking hard? “I’d…”

He slowly turned to look out of the window, teeth clenched and jaw tight, breathing through his nose, trying desperately to blink away those pathetic, infuriating little pools of liquid from falling from the bottom of his eyes where they'd gathered. It felt as if that was the most important mission in the world right now. As if the cosmos itself depended on Scott Ryder’s eyes and their monumental task, and failing in this task would bring the entire universe down on their heads.

Thankfully the Commander saw he was struggling for words and spared him the indignity:

“No need to say any more Ryder. I’m placing you on a two-month emergency leave effective immediately” he said in a low voice, tapping some commands on his Omnitool. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you off for the whole six months, but should the situation get… worse, after you return, you can request the relevant leave then.”

The man was obviously trying to be tactful by avoiding the words ‘bereavement leave’, but Scott understood. He knew two months was a higher than average time for emergency leave anyway, and was incredibly grateful. But the fight to maintain his composure was still going strong, so he waited until the man was done. Shepard finished tapping on his Omnitool, and waved him off with a gesture.

“Go, go pack up your things. You should be with your family in this difficult time. There’ll be a shuttle ready in thirty, to take you out to transport ship XZS-522 that’s orbiting the station. We’re due a large supply run to Earth anyway, so they can drop you off too."

Scott really needed to say something, to speak up, thank the man. 

“Thank you sir, I…” he started, then words failed him yet again, and he cursed himself inwardly.

“No need for that” Shepard waved casually. “I’m sorry this has happened to you and your family Ryder” he added, making a sympathetic grimace. “There’s also another matter which I was going to announce soon stationwide, but obviously you won’t be present to hear it. I’m being re-assigned in a few weeks to a new Alliance ship for field duty, which means I won’t be here on your return. But don’t worry, I will discuss your situation personally with my replacement.”

Scott’s lips pursed together. It’d be a real shame to see the commander go, and his words increased the gratitude he felt for the man’s empathy, as well as his generous grant of emergency leave. He got up and stood at attention again.

“May I speak freely, sir?”

Shepard waved for him to be at ease. “It’s probably the last time you’ll be addressing me as your commanding officer Ryder, so no need for formalities now.”

“It’s been a real honor serving under you, commander. I’ve learned so much, and…”

He wanted to say more, so much more to this man. He’d been a real inspiration with his example and someone Scott and the rest of the unit truly looked up to. And it was all because of the man’s integrity; because of his unshakeable moral core; because of how he’d deal swiftly and fairly with injustice; because he’d been quick to take the blame for all of the unit’s fuck-ups – ‘face the music’ as he called it – but just as quick to give them most of the credit for the successes. Because he was a hell of a shot, and a paragon of the best traits of mankind.

Over these last two years, John Shepard had shaped Scott’s outlook on life and duty more than he could describe. He’d planned to say all this for a while now.

“and…”

His tongue felt like it was made of steel.

“And I’ve…”

If only those _fucking_ tears weren’t so close to falling...

But once again, the commander understood and saved him from his blundering. He huffed and offered his right hand with a sad smile, saying nothing else. Scott took it with his own and shook it fervently, looking the commander in the eyes; trying to put the appreciation he felt, and the farewell that his stupid mouth couldn’t express into a single handshake.

He let go of Shepard’s hand, then bumped a fist over his heart and nodded, eyes stinging and jaw clenched. Shepard saluted back with a quick gesture and Scott turned around and walked out, towards his quarters, finally able to wipe his eyes.

Enough moping. He wasn’t a child anymore. He wasn’t going to spend his time around here being sad. His family needed him, **his mom** , needed him. If they only had a couple of months to spend with each other, then every minute he spent away from her was another minute they’d lost and would never get back.

***

He didn’t even remember the journey to the shuttle or to Earth, even though it took more than a week. It wasn’t a fun one. He spent most of it in a trance, looking at the ceiling, wondering how she was doing. Was she on a bed looking pale and sickly? Would he be able to hug her or would she be too weak for that? The questions kept swirling in his mind, pointless and torturous.

They arrived in the Alliance HQ in Vancouver, and Scott took a cab to their old vacation home in Lonsdale Avenue. It was February and a busy Sunday. The winds and snow were mild, so you could still walk around town easily. People on the streets were enjoying themselves, shopping or playing in the snow, as the last few hours of sunlight faded away.

The cab arrived at its destination, and Scott thanked the driver and tapped his Omnitool to pay for the ride.

He walked up past the fence and reached the front door and gently knocked on it. He could hear footsteps approaching from inside and his heart jumped a little. Was it gonna be her?

Sara opened the door. Her face lit up momentarily when she saw him. He gave her half a smile.

“Hey sis.”

“Hey Scotty,” she said and her features shifted, trying to cover up her expression as she remembered why he was here, and why she was here, and what had them all back here together again. He reached down and squeezed her in a tight hug.

 “It’s been a while huh?” he asked, and felt her nod her head. “Where’s mom?”

 “In the kitchen. Come on in.” She let go of him, and walked back into their old vacation home.

Scott followed her inside, then looked around. Last time he’d visited the place was about five years ago, on their last ‘family holiday’. Everything was just as he remembered it. The white carpet, and light beige walls; the cream-coloured sofa, and the brown coffee table; the holographic fireplace, with a very realistic-looking, three-dimensional projection of burning logs; the big glass TV, right above the fireplace; the hand-polished oak dining table and chairs that his parents had bought as a special order, when they’d got the place.

He felt instantly at ease, and took off his shoes as Sara went ahead.

“Look who’s here!!!” she called enthusiastically towards the kitchen.

“I think I know!!” came another voice in reply.

_Hers._

Scott reached the thin little separator wall that kept the fumes and most of the smells from the kitchen coming through to the living room.

And there she was.

“Hey!” she said. She dropped a ladle she was holding and opened her arms inviting him for a hug.

She didn’t look ill at all. All the scenarios that he was imagining in his head, the ghastly images of a bedridden woman were just that, scenarios. In fact, she looked healthy and maybe a little bit plumper than when he’d left.

But it didn’t really matter, the sight of her was too much for him. His happiness at seeing her again after nearly two years and his sadness at knowing he'd lose her in just a few months hit him like a Dreadnought. His eyebrows came together, face scrunched and lips pursed, trying to keep an overwhelming cascade of emotions in check. He had to hold it together.

He had to.

He closed the distance between them with two large steps, closed his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

And he couldn’t hold it together anymore.

He took in a sharp breath and it felt like the floodgates opened. He began sobbing, deeply and silently, his body shaking with big breaths of air and quiet whines. There was no holding back tears this time, and his attempts to keep himself quiet didn’t really help at all. She smelled of lilac and strawberries, of family and comfort, of familiarity and of home. Of the days when she’d sit by his bedside and sing to him when he was ill. Of the days she’d take him and his sister down to the Presidium parks, to play with children of other races, so they’d learn to get along with everyone. She smelled of _mom. His mom._ He sobbed, and shook, and cried, like he was a child, and he couldn’t have stopped himself if his life depended on it. This was **his mom** dammit, and she was strong, and kind, and sweet, and caring. And his mom was gonna be taken from him. The tears stung his face as he hugged her tightly, afraid that she was gonna slip away the moment he loosened his grip like sand between his fingers.

She let him cry and patted his back, rocking him slightly from side to side like she had when he was little, stroking his hair.

“Aw my poor, sweet baby boy. Hush now, hush” she said, in her sweet, comforting tone, “It’s gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be fine. Shhhh…”

Hearing her soothing voice again made his brain engage a little.

_What am I doing, she’s the one who’s dying... I should be comforting **her** …The fuck is wrong with me?_

But he still didn’t, couldn’t let go. Because as it so happens, grief and logic very rarely go hand in hand. So, he wept silently in her arms for a little longer, all the while continuing to chastise himself in his head for what he was doing, because it was selfish.

He felt a hand on his back that wasn’t his mom’s. _Sara._ She was rubbing his back gently, and he finally managed to let go of his mom and wipe his face on his sleeve.

He realised he had a little snot running down his nose as well, and hastily grabbed a couple of tissues from the counter next to him to clean himself up. How pathetic of him.

“I’m ok…” he said, his nose all blocked and swollen. “I’m ok… I’m so sorry mom, this isn’t what you need right now. And I haven’t seen you for so long – ”

“Scott, shush, don’t be silly. It’s fine. We’ve all had time here to process this and bawl our eyes out both on our own and with each other. I am doing fine. And when I’m not, the pills help.” she said all matter-of-fact, the scientist in her always trying to employ reason. He thought he heard Sara mutter “s _ome of us more than others…”_ as his mom went on: “You’ll need some time to adjust too.”

 “I know but still, I’m sorry mom. You probably have snot on your t-shirt too…” he added, blowing his nose again and feeling embarrassed. So much for not being a kid anymore. She just chuckled and brushed it off.

“Scott, if you knew the amount of snot, and pee, and sick, and poop that a mother gets to see when raising twins you’d realise this is like a drop in the ocean” she replied, pointing to the spot where he’d cried and dribbled all over her.

“I don’t really want to see that ocean,” Sara mused, making a grimace.

“Well, one day, you’ll both probably have children of your own and you’ll be seeing it whether you like it or not. But hopefully it’ll be one at a time.”

Scott smiled. His eyes hurt and his face felt puffy, but just like that, they’d shifted the mood a little. Both his mom and Sara had always been incredibly good at that.

“Scott, go wash your face. Mom, you go get changed, I’ll set the table. Mom’s made meatballs and sweet potato fries Scott!” said Sara enthusiastically.

His favorite food.

“Oh my god mom, you’re the best” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek, then started for the bathroom. “Be back in 5.”

He finished washing up and wiped his face with a towel he’d just taken out. Even the towels were in same place. _Third drawer on the left under the sink._ He smiled at the thought and looked himself in the mirror. His face still felt swollen and was slightly red under the eyes, but that would subside soon. _More importantly, this is the last time this happens,_ he promised himself. _I need to be **her** support, not the other way around. And Sara’s, and dad’s if they need it._

With that, he got back in the living room, just as Sara was taking a seat. There were three plates on the table.

“Where’s dad?” he asked.

Sara frowned a little and grabbed a fry from the large platter in the middle.

“Dad’s been… absent, lately. He spends most of the day at his lab.”

Scott remembered the warehouse storage space that he’d helped his father convert into a ‘lab’, which he’d use whenever they visited the place. Alec Ryder couldn’t even spend a holiday with his family without doing _some_ work, he’d go insane.

“Lately, how lately?”

“Since he found out that mom’s disease is terminal.”

“What the fuck, why?” he said, annoyed. “What could be more important right now than spending time with his family?”

He was sure he more-or-less knew the answer.

“Shhhhh” Sara put a finger to her lips. He’d raised his voice a little without realising it. “I’ll tell you later – “

“Your father,” his mom interjected as she walked into the room “has this foolish notion in his head that he can ‘save’ me.”

Scott’s annoyance evaporated at the words, his mouth falling open a little. Ok, maybe he didn’t know the answer for his dad’s absence this time.

“Can he?” he said incredulously, almost afraid to ask. Should he dare hope?

His mom shook her head. “No honey, I don’t think he can. And I think he’s caused, and will cause, way more harm to the family if he continues down this road, than if he’d just accept it and spent his time with us” she said and sat down, an exasperated expression on her face. They’d probably argued about it at some point.

But…

“Mom, if there’s a chance, then we should let him try, hell we should help him! Why would he harm the family? I get that you’d rather have him here with us but c’mon!”

She shook her head again. Scott looked from her, to Sara, trying to understand why they were so hesitant to accept that there may be hope. If his dad was trying to save her they should all support –

“He’s developing an AI, Scott” Sara said with a frown.

He froze.

_An AI…_

AIs were dangerous. The Geth were AIs. And the Geth had begun propagating as soon as they’d reached sentience, then turned against their creators and took over their entire home planet. They’d become a scourge of galactic society and made the Perseus Veil off limits to anyone without a death wish. AI research was made illegal by the Council for this very reason. If anyone found out what he was doing, he’d be thrown in jail, rotting away while his wife was dying. He didn’t even know how an AI could help their mom not die from a biological terminal illness.

“To be honest, we’d started working on it together,” his mom admitted.

Scott didn’t think it possible, but his shock had just doubled.

“What? Why? Mom, you know it’s illegal. The council– ”

“The council are a bunch of old fools with too many prejudices to count,” she interrupted. She gave a little sigh. “This was going to be our life’s work Scott. An AI developed to advance our species beyond organic capabilities. An AI which would benefit just as much from co-existing with and aiding organics as they would benefit from it; meaning there’d be no need for conflict, Nothing like the Quarians and the Geth situation would ever happen, since co-existing would be an advantage to both. Something that would pave the way, and stand as an example of what ethical AI research can do” she said. Scott could hear the passion in her words. It seemed like this was something she really believed in. But she looked down and went on:

“But that doesn’t matter now. We don’t have all our lives to develop it. Your father hopes he can make the AI do things that we’d planned to take years and years to complete, in just a few months.”

Things? Things like cure her AEND? Was an AI really capable of such a feat?

“And you’re right it is illegal,” she conceded, “and I wasn’t entirely sure we should even proceed. But we were going to plan every little detail and be very careful with procuring the resources we’d need. But because he’s in a rush, your father started taking foolish risks and being careless, and it’s already got him in trouble.”

Uh oh.

“What kind of trouble?”

“The kind that has effectively ended his career in the Alliance, and would’ve landed him in jail if he wasn’t N7.” she said, then took on a troubled expression. “The kind that hasn’t just affected him…”

Scott frowned, the question plain on his face. “What do you mean?”

His mom sighed, and Sara came closer handing him a folded piece of paper, followed by a smaller one. “These arrived a few days ago. I got one too, the day after we spoke on the vidcon.”

Scott’s heart thumped in his chest as he unfolded the large piece of paper and read:

**Alliance Navy  
Letter of Administrative Discharge**

**Addressed to:  
Ryder, Scott – Alliance Navy Service Number 30021AZ**

**Current assignment:  
Arcturus Station, Relay 202, Defense and Interception**

_We regret to inform you that the Alliance Navy has gathered evidence which leads us to believe that members of your immediate family have been involved in illegal/terrorist activities. Said activities pose an immediate and very real threat to the standing of humanity in the galactic community as well as  a threat to intergalactic peace and prosperity._

_The Alliance cannot take the risk of associating itself with such individuals, as this can cause a wide-reaching diplomatic episode. Under the provisions of DCE 878-276, Paragraph 9c, we have no choice but to discharge you from your position within the Alliance Navy, effective immediately._

_While this situation is unfortunate as it is out of your direct control, please be assured that the Alliance recognizes your excellent track record and dedicated service in the last two years since your enlistment began. We would therefore like to provide a small token of appreciation in the sum of 5000 credits, as a discharge fee, and we wish you the best of luck in future endeavors._

_Signed, on behalf of the Alliance Navy_

_Commander Thiery,_  
Arcturus Station  
Relay 202

Scott blinked in disbelief. How could things take a turn like that in just a week and a half? His career in the Alliance was over, and he hadn’t had a clue until now. They discharged him for his father’s ‘terrorist activities’. Fucking unbelievable. What was he going to do now? All his ambitions revolved around serving in the Alliance. And who the hell was this Thiery? Shepard’s replacement, probably.

He shook his head to clear it of all the thoughts vying for his attention, then opened the smaller piece of paper. This one was handwritten.

_I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am Ryder. I found out about your discharge a couple of days after you departed the station, and fought tooth and nail for nearly a week to stop it from happening. But I’m afraid it’s beyond my control. Those old diplomat motherfuckers in the Alliance brass are scared shitless that your dad’s research might ruin humanity’s image. They wanted to cut ties as quickly and as publicly as possible, and you got caught in the crossfire._

_I know it’s a meaningless platitude at this point but again, I’m really sorry. I wish I could’ve done more here. You’re one hell of a soldier, and do not deserve this._

_Best of luck,_

_John Shepard_

Scott read the words again and again like they’d held some hidden meaning. They didn’t. If even Shepard, an N7, couldn’t stop this from happening then it was all well and truly finished. Nonetheless, he appreciated the man’s candor, as well as the attempt to intercede on his behalf. It was just like him to try and do that. He wondered if the 5k credits the Alliance had offered him was also because of Shepard. Not that it mattered. His career was out the window in the end, and he’d deal with that. Later. His family was more important right now.

“Screw it,” he said. “If this thing can help you mom, I don’t give a shit about being discharged. You know dad loves you like we do.”

“I do, and that’s the problem. As always, his heart is in the right place. But the way he’s going about it has already had consequences, which could become even worse. And I don’t feel good seeing that happen on my account Scott. I’d prefer us to actually spend whatever time we have as a family.”

“But what if he can do it? What if…”

She huffed and gave him a sad smile. “Scott, I worked on this thing just as much as your father before we found out. It’s mainly hypotheses and negligible probabilities at this stage.”

Sara was poking at a meatball on her plate and let a breath out through her nose. “I don’t know what he’s thinking” she said.

He probably wasn’t thinking. Scott knew how much their dad loved their mom, as well as how much he believed in taking action and not surrendering ‘when your back’s against the wall’, as he called it. The sentiment was a good one, but the way he was putting it in practice was dangerous, at best. Still, if there was a chance...

“I’m going to go talk to him” he said.

“I wouldn’t bother honey, he’s not in his right mind.”

“No, I need to. I’m guessing both you and Sara have already?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow and huffed, as if to say _if you only knew how much._ “So I will too” he finished.

His mother shrugged. “Maybe you’ll be able to get through to him. Although knowing your father, it’s not likely.”

“How about we… change the subject” Sara interjected, wanting to shift the mood again. “Mom did I tell you about the time when I…”

Scott’s mind trailed off, and he wasn’t there for the rest of it. He had to talk to him. He was disappointed about the Alliance, and his first instinct was to take her side on this, but if there was hope… He had to see if he should hope along with him, maybe even help in his research. Or, if it was all just a wild goose chase that his dad had embarked on to avoid dealing with the situation.

Scott knew already which of the two was more likely.

The three of them stayed there for a while, until the dark sky outside had become clear and full of stars. They’d been chatting about his days on the station and how he’d been doing with his unit. He mentioned a commendation he’d received for a multi-Barrier split. Batarian outlaws had thrown cluster grenades at them and he’d ‘split’ his barrier to cover each blast individually. The smaller barriers were weaker than a solid, full one, so the shrapnel did break through, but the initial force had been weakened enough and stopped them from causing serious injury. The people whose shields were down got a few nasty bruises, but those were much preferable to having shards of shrapnel tear through them. The ones whose shields were up didn’t even have a scratch. Scott had told them both about it before over vidcon, and Sara already knew all the little details but his mom didn’t. She was very impressed that his control had gotten so refined.

“I still remember when you first got your implant. All you would do was push things off the table and see them fall” she said and touched his cheek, smiling proudly. “And when you finally figured out the charge –  ”

 “No charging around the house!” Scott and Sara said at the same time, mimicking her voice and laughing together. His mom’s caress on his cheek turned into a quick pat, pretending to smack him for making fun of her. But she was smiling too.

He looked outside the window. His father still hadn’t shown up, and probably wouldn’t be doing so anytime soon. He got up and started for the door.

“I’m gonna go see dad, maybe get him to come home. I might be out for a while.”

“Okay honey, I’ll see you later,” his mom replied as she got up and headed towards the kitchen.

Sara walked up to him as he was putting on his shoes.

“Scott, just…” she seemed unsure on what to say “don’t expect much from dad right now. What mom said earlier, that he’s not in his right mind? She wasn’t wrong.”

Was it really that bad?

 “Ok,” he nodded, then grabbed his coat and a pair of keys from the bowl next to the door. He bent and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

He headed out into the night, walking through the snow laden streets of Vancouver. The ‘lab’ wasn’t too far from here, and he could use the time to think. About his mother, his father, the AI, the Alliance… He really needed to gather his thoughts, and the scrunching of the snow under his boots was a welcome sound that broke through the silence of the night.

_Let’s see what you’ve been up to old man._

***

He stopped outside the door _. H_ e could see through the vertical glass strip, but it was blurry, to avoid people peeking in from outside. You could just about make out low lighting and a bright blue aura in the room, which Scott assumed was the light of datapad screens. He pushed the door open.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Strong, musky and overpowering. It smelled like someone had left food to rot out in the open for days and days on end.

The room’s layout was in a gamma (Γ) shape, and the entrance was on the south side, which made it look like a wide hallway with a corner rather than a proper room. The lights were dimmed, but illuminated the place enough so you could see the scene clearly. And what a scene it was.

The lab was in chaos.

There were datapads everywhere. Some just laid there on the desks, giving off their bright blue lights, obviously not going into suspension mode. On the counter to his left there were three computer terminals, placed haphazardly in awkward positions. One of them had yet another stack of datapads lying on top of it. The devices looked like they would slip to the floor with the lightest breeze, and apparently a couple had done just that. Post-it notes were lining the wall to his right, some placed sideways, some diagonally, and a few had fallen on the floor. The bin was filled to the brim with coffee cups and food packaging, most of it sandwiches and other small food items. Some of those still contained leftovers, and Scott realised that that must’ve been where the rancid smell came from.

There’d obviously been a coffee spill at some point, which someone had tried to quickly clean up, but hadn’t done a great job of it. The metallic chrome surface of the desk had swipe stains on it, and there was a large white kitchen roll left there standing on the desk. A small section of the roll was stained brown, as if its corner had fallen - or been placed -  on the coffee spill at some point, but had long since dried up. Some of the datapads themselves still had dried coffee on them.

His father was never a neat-freak, and Scott had been in his office labs quite a few times before. Ryder Sr. had always become absorbed by his work, so there’d always be a couple of things out of place here and there. But this… it had never been like this. He thought he understood what Sara meant. It had been less than a couple of weeks since they’d found out her illness was terminal and this place seemed like someone had been living in here for a year, entirely cut off from the outside world.

He moved towards the corner, trying not to step on the datapads or the post-its on the floor.

He saw his father as soon as he peered around. He was sitting on a desk chair at the end of the lab, hunched over a computer terminal, typing furiously. On his right-hand side was a holo-projector, that had what looked like a blue globe, spinning around with some lines criss-crossing it. Scott walked closer and managed to see lines and lines of code over his dad’s shoulder.

Scott thought he hadn’t noticed him enter, but then the chair spun around and Ryder Sr. looked at him. His beard had grown considerably, obviously not being a priority right now, and his greying hair was unkempt as if someone had just ruffled it, a few strands falling in front of his face. His clothing didn’t fare much better. A shirt was half-tucked into his pants in a hasty fashion, and a large coffee stain decorated the lower corner of his white lab coat. He noticed the pants didn’t have a matching coffee stain. He must’ve changed out of those. Small mercy...

“Son, you’re here. Welcome back.” Ryder Sr. said nonchalantly. Calling his appearance disheveled would be putting it mildly, but despite that his dad’s voice was perfectly calm and reasonable, exactly as Scott remembered it. “I could use your help. Could you grab datapad E45X from the counter back there? I need to compare some notes.”

“I… sure. Where did you leave that?”

“It should be on the counter near one of the three Computer terminals, next to the entrance,” he waved absently towards the door, then turned back to his computer to keep coding.

Scott looked back at his father before he turned the corner to get the datapad, cos he couldn’t really believe his eyes. He’d never seen him like this before. His father, if nothing else, had always made sure to carry himself with dignity. He was an N7, and **he** was the one always saying how the title meant a lot to people, so those who bear it had a responsibility to fill the part.

Then again, he was no longer an N7…

The most jarring thing, he realized, was trying to reconcile the perfectly reasonable, calm and collected voice with the visual image. His brain couldn’t deal with the dissonance there, so he just shook his head and walked up to the three computer terminals with the stack of datapads.

“E45X” he muttered with a sigh. Where the hell was he going to find that in this mess?

He was about to pick up the stack and start looking through them, just as his eyes fell on the two coffee-stained datapads on the floor.

 _Maybe I’ll get lucky,_ he thought and picked them up. A tap on the first one, then a swipe down from the top to bring up the device’s name.

 _E40Z, nope._ He did the same with the other one.

_Bingo! E45X. Thank fuck for that._

He took it and grabbed the kitchen roll on the counter, then tore off two pieces. He looked around for cleaning supplies and noticed a glass cleaner spray under the counter. It’d do. The bin with the leftover food and packaging was right next to it, and a wave of foul stench hit him as he bent down to pick up the cleaner.

“Ugh…” he blinked in disgust. He dropped the datapad and tied up the garbage bag, then pulled it off the bin and put a new one in. At least that way the smell wouldn’t get any worse.

He took the glass cleaner and sprayed the datapad, then wiped it clean. After putting the cleaner back in its place, he threw the pieces of kitchen roll in the garbage and walked back to his father, then handed it over.

“Thanks” said Ryder Sr, then grabbed another one next to him and started swiping up and down on each of them. He turned to look at Scott briefly up and down, then turned back to his datapads, apparently satisfied that he was ok and healthy-looking.

“How was your journey back?” he said conversationally.

“Good…” Scot nodded, fiddling with a medigel pack next to him. He wasn’t sure where to start.

“Have you been to see your mother?”

“Yep. She made food. Me and her and Sara sat down to eat **together** ” he said pointedly. His father just nodded.

“Good, good.”

Scott sighed. He wasn’t giving him much to work with, so he’d just have to go all in.

“Dad… mom and Sara are worried.”

“That’s understandable, so am I. It’s a very serious illness your mother has, and if we don’t do something – ”

“I mean they are worried about you.”

It was his dad’s turn to sigh. He knew what Scott had meant of course, he was just playing dumb. He put down his datapads and looked up at him.

“Son, I’ve had this conversation with your mother, AND your sister many times.” he said, in a level tone, then gestured towards Scott. “I’d rather not have it with you too.”

“Dad, they want you to – “

“Scott, how about you just tell me why **you** came? What are you hoping for?”

Scott set his jaw as his temper gave a little flare.

“I’m hoping to understand why you’re in here, locked away in a lab while your wife is d – “ he stopped abruptly as his father raised a finger and pursed his lips. A warning. He was going too far, too quickly. Scott pinched his nose between the eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself, then changed his tone.

“Dad have you seen yourself in a mirror lately? Have you had a look at this place? It’s like a warzone in here. You’re like a mad scientist out of a Blasto movie.”

“Did your mother tell you what I’m working on?” his father asked, ignoring the remark. “What **we** , were working on?” Despite his earlier warning his voice was still perfectly level and calm, as if he was explaining things logically and patiently to a child. He was always good at putting his emotions aside, which was as much a blessing as it was a curse.

“Yea, she did.”

“And what do you think?”

Scott wasn’t entirely sure. He decided to be cautious in his reply.

“I think that what you’re doing is dangerous, and illegal. I think that it could get you, our family, and maybe a lot of other people in the galaxy in real trouble, very quickly.”

His father huffed and shook his head with an unamused smile.

“You’ve definitely been speaking to your mother.”

Scott shrugged. “I have, but I’ve also seen some of the consequences, firsthand. Me and Sara were both dismissed from the Alliance because of your research” he tried to keep the accusation from his tone but a little bit of it slipped through.

“I’m sorry about that” his dad said apologetically.

“I’m not, not if what you’re doing can help mom. She doesn’t think that’s likely, but I came here to make up my own mind.”

“Good, good. You know I’m not unreasonable or a madman, son. I have good cause to believe that our AI could potentially help your mother survive what’s happening to her.”

 “Ok,” Scott acquiesced nodding his head and making a gesture with his hand as if to say _‘fair enough’_. “I’m not unreasonable either, although I’m sure neither are Sara and mom” he added. “Like I said, I came here to see what you had in mind **before** making up my own, and even help you if I can. So, talk to me. Show me how likely it is that what you’re doing will save mom. With **numbers**.” he said, putting emphasis on the last word.

Scott was fully willing to suspend his biases. Maybe speaking to his mom and Sara before his dad had colored his perspective. Maybe the general taboo topic that was AI research and his discharge from the Alliance was making him unreasonable. Maybe he was judging his father based on his general appearance and the mess in the lab. Most likely, it was all of those things combined that put his hackles up. But he’d come here to listen to him, and that’s what he would do. He’d always prided himself in his ability to check prejudice at the door, and discuss things that might make other people flinch. And this… If there was one time when doing that really mattered, then this was it. He’d give his father the benefit of the doubt.

But Ryder Sr. didn’t speak, he just rubbed his eyes with one hand. A bad sign.

 _Give me something to work with here old man, and I’ll work on this alongside you to the heat death of the universe_ he thought, waiting expectantly. His father finally spoke:

“It’s not about numbers Scott, what I’m trying to do here –“

_Fuck._

“It’s ALWAYS about the numbers dad, you know that better than anyone.” Scott said, feeling a slight pang of fear and disappointment slowly creeping upwards. Was it all smoke and mirrors? “So give me numbers, I’m sure you have some.”

“This AI is based on more than that. It will learn to advance itself with human integration.”

Scott shook his head. “I’d still like to see the numbers” he insisted. That little pang was now becoming more pronounced.

“Scott it’s **not** that simple. If you sit down and see what SAM can do when it’s not even fully operational you’ll see where I’m coming from. One day it will be able to interface with the nervous system and enhance autoimmune responses – “

_Shit._

“That’s great that it’ll do that one day, that sounds awesome” Scott interrupted raising his eyebrows sarcastically. He was starting to realize that his father was trying to avoid showing him actual numbers which didn’t bode well, at all. “Mom said something similar. ‘ _Years away’_ was the phrase she used. But she has about five months left to live. I **know** you can calculate how likely that ‘interfacing’ is to happen by that time, based on your progress thus far. I’d bet my right hand that you’ve got the equations already.”

His father didn’t speak. That meant he had them, and the results weren’t good. Scott hadn’t realized until that moment that despite what he’d thought earlier about dangers and AI troubles, he’d actually latched on to this little spark of hope and it had grown even stronger on the way here. He only noticed now, as he felt it dwindling more with each passing second, threatened to be swallowed by dread. “So c’mon show me” he added, heart racing.

“Scott we can’t just – “

“ **NUMBERS** , dad!”

He was losing his patience.

Ryder Sr. gave him another look, then turned around. He typed a few keys on his terminal and moved back from the screen to allow Scott to see it. He peered at the screen. In large green letters, the numbers **0.005%** appeared.

His heart sank, and all the dread he’d been keeping at bay rose like a terrible tide. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His brain was processing the data, but was unable to parse the result.

_0.005%_

Also known as a 1 in 20000 chance.

One, in twenty thousand.

One.

In.

Twenty.

THOUSAND.

He huffed out a sharp breath. It sounded like a chuckle, but there was no amusement there, only disbelief, hurt and incredulity. In that moment, the spark was utterly extinguished, snuffed out and swept away like a campfire under a waterfall. He turned to look at his father.

“You’ve gotta be joking…”

“Scott – “

“No, you’ve got to be kidding me…”

“Scott like I said before, it’s not that si– “

“Zero point zero zero five percent!?” Scott said, his inflection rising as he said the words out loud, “ **a ONE IN TWENTY THOUSAND CHANCE?”**

“It’s only that low because SAM isn’t developed very far. We’d only had a few months to work on it and we went very slowly, it’s already – “

“Bull. Shit!” he shouted. “Even if you get five more months, it’s gonna rise by what? Another 0.005%? It’s gonna go to one in TEN thousand? By the time she **DIES?** ”

His anger and disappointment were rising with each and every word. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that his father spent his days in here, while his wife and his children suffered alone, all for a 1 in 20000 chance. He couldn’t believe he gave him the benefit of the doubt, when he knew, **HE KNEW,** time and time again how his father buried himself in his work when he needed to escape. When he couldn’t deal with things head on. When he refused _to face the music._

He was outraged. He was outraged, and hurt, and his heart felt like a hundred thousand anvils with any semblance of hope crushed into nothingness under their unbearable weight. He was outraged at the injustice of his mother’s illness, at his selfish reaction when he saw her, at his Biotics which came from her deadly exposure to Eezo, at all the bullshit military goals that had made her sick in the first place. And most of all he was outraged at his father, for once again looking the other way, bullshitting himself and everyone else by pretending to _‘take action’_. All because reality was too harsh, and it was easier to live in denial.

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” his father said indifferently and turned back to the datapads and his computer screen. It fueled Scott’s anger even further, hearing him be so calm and matter-of-fact about this.

“Oh don’t you worry I understand.” he said, and there was no stemming the tide anymore. “I understand that you’re hiding yourself in your fucking lab – “

“Scott –“

“while your children are at home **heartbroken** , having lost their only semblance of a future and trying to spend what little time they have left with their mom –”

“Don’t – “

“while she, your wife, is slowly dying. While she sleeps alone at night, wishing her husband was next to her– ”

“I said – “

“and for what? For a **FUCKING ONE IN TWENTY THOUSAND** – ”

“I’D TAKE ONE IN A **BILLION** IF I HAD TO!” his father yelled, glowing blue momentarily and slamming his fist on his desk while standing up at the same time. The equipment jumped with the impact, and the datapads clattered to the floor. His biotic fist had left a slight bump on the metal and he stood up, looking Scott in the eyes and quivering with rage. He pointed a finger at him.

“ **IF** YOUR MOTHER IS GOING TO **DIE** , **I’M** GOING TO DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO SAVE HER UNTIL THE VERY. LAST. **HOUR**!” he sputtered. “AND I’d expect you and your sister to do the SAME!”

Scott couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“MY SISTER AND I ARE WILLING TO FACE REALITY!” he shouted back as his rage exploded. “WE’RE 26 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU, AND WE DON’T BURY OUR HEADS IN THE SAND AND PRETEND WE DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING –“

“BULLSHIT!”

“MOM HERSELF **KNOWS** THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! She KNOWS, and she’s made her peace! And she wants you to do the same, so you can spend her last few days TOGETHER!” he said poking a finger at his father’s chest. Ryder Sr. swiped his hand away and grabbed him by the collar. Scott took hold of his wrists but didn’t push him off, locking eyes with him to let him see all his anger, and his rage, and his grief, and his frustration. He could see the same reflected in his father’s as the man spoke through clenched teeth:

“SHE is **SICK**!” She is scared, and she is dying, and she has given up hope! **YOU** should know bett –“

“I CAME HERE TO LISTEN TO YOU!” Scott yelled and pushed him away, glowing blue himself. “I came here to listen, in case you had real hope for her! And all I found instead, is a man LIVING IN DENIAL, and drowning in his helplessness – ”

“One in twenty thousand is BETTER than zero –“

“ – because we BOTH fucking know,” Scott went on as if he hadn’t heard him, “that one in twenty thousand is **NOT** a realistic chance of survival!”

“JUST BECAUSE **YOU** AND **YOUR SISTER** ARE HAPPY TO LET YOUR MOTHER DIE DOESN’T MEAN I WILL BE!” Ryder Sr. yelled with all his fury.

Scott saw red, and his hands began shaking with barely contained rage and hurt.

“NOW GO! Fuck off out of here!” his father continued, “Leave those of us who want to see her LIVE,  to work in peace!”

He had to get out. He had to get out immediately, or he was going to hit him, punch him, bloody him senseless until one of them stopped breathing. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone as badly as he wanted to hurt Alec Ryder in that moment. He raised his still shaking hands in the air and pursed his lips in disgust, walking backwards as he dispersed the dark energy coursing through him. He HAD to get out right now. Every step he took was an exercise in self-control, in trying not to trash the place, smash it into a million pieces and set it on fire. He reached the door and grabbed the handle with a trembling hand, then pulled it open and walked out into the fresh cold air, hoping it’d soothe his temper. It barely made a difference.

_How fucking dare he._

He stood outside taking deep breaths and considered what to do next, where to go. He couldn’t go home in this state. He needed a drink, asap, needed to go to a bar. Then again, that might be a bad idea. If someone even looked at him the wrong way right now it’d be a bad time for them. A very bad time. He needed to vent, to punch, to rip things apart, so he called up a cab with his omnitool. Destination: The Vancouver branch of Armax Arsenal Arena. Where he could take it out on some VIs, then go for a drink. Or maybe ten.

***

The next few months had been difficult, for all of them. Scott and Sara spent most of the day with their mom, but she was often melancholic, not because she was dying, but mostly because she missed **him**. She often mentioned that this illness had driven them apart more than death could ever have done. Scott’s heart hurt for her, but there was nothing he could do. His dad didn’t show up at home all that much, and whenever he did, it would usually end up in arguing, mostly with Scott.

He’d tried very hard not to do that because it upset his mother even more if they fought about her, but he just couldn’t stop himself. It was always the same deal, over and over. Alec Ryder was the only one who still cared, while the rest of them had abandoned her, given up on her, didn’t care if she died. That usually triggered Scott’s guilt since he remembered his initial reaction, when Sara had told him of the illness and he’d briefly considered his mom already dead. But then he usually recalled that ridiculous 0.005%, and his fury got renewed and was redirected towards his father. Ryder Sr. didn’t speak about how his AI research was going, and none of them asked. They all knew it was pointless, and deep down so did he.

On month five, Scott went over to the lab again, this time first thing in the morning. He wasn’t sure that what he was about to do was the best idea. But it didn’t matter, he’d already made his mind up. He knocked this time.

“Come in.” came _his_ voice.

Scott opened the door and walked in. The lab was in a similar state of disarray as the last time he’d gotten here, just slightly worse. His father didn’t look at the door, he was typing away on one of the computers on the counter which still hadn’t been moved.

“Please leave the tray on th – oh, it’s you,” he said dismissively as he saw Scott, then turned back to his monitor. “What do you want?”

“I need to tell you something. About me.”

His father stopped typing and turned his head to give him an inquisitive look.

“Can it wait? I really need to finish this algorithm today for –“

“I’m gay.”

Ryder Sr. stopped mid-sentence. He let out a breath through his nose and swivelled on his chair to face him fully, arms folded. They looked at each other for a long moment. Scott would be damned if he’d be the one to break the silence.

“When did you know?”

“Since I was about 14.”

“How?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Ryder Sr. shrugged, conceding the point.

“And why are you telling me this now?”

The reason he was telling him now was to see if he could use this to have another argument. It was petty, and a little spiteful, but he wanted to see if his father was going to dare talk to him about the ‘Ryder family line’ and how Scott should ‘pass on the name’ this time. To see if he’d reject him, so he could hate his guts with impunity.

“Because it’s who I am, and I thought it’s about time you knew. I’m gonna tell mom as well when I get home, but since you’re never there –“

“Don’t tell your mother.”

Scott paused. That was unexpected.

“Why not?” he said suspiciously.

His father looked at him as if it was obvious.

“Because she is very sick, and doesn’t need any bad news right now. It’ll just make her worse.”

Scott’s stomach roiled in disgust at the words. _Bad news?_ Scott had been expecting some rejection based on not having children maybe, not on hearing a part of who he was being called _bad news_. Who was this man sitting opposite him? Did he not know this person at all?

“And why is this **bad** news, exactly?” he managed to ask, sounding calmer than he felt.

His father sighed and looked away for a moment, looking apologetic.

“I misspoke” he said. “It’s not bad per se, you know I’m not homophobic. But it’s not exactly good either, is it? She’s not going to get any grandchildren from you.”

Scott’s breathing resumed, his muscles relaxing a little. Not homophobic, just downright fucking stupid.

“She wasn’t going to anyway. Unless I’ve missed the part where straight people can have kids in under a month” he said sarcastically.

“She’s **NOT** …” Ryder Sr. began raising his voice. Then he stopped himself and took a deep breath trying to control his temper. He succeeded.

“Do whatever you want,” he said apathetically and turned back to his computer “you always have.”

“Like father, like son,” Scott scoffed and walked out, then started to walk back home.

He’d never admit it to his face, but his father’s response rattled him more than he’d expected. Yes, he wasn’t homophobic – which Scott didn’t believe would be the case, regardless of how much of an absolute stranger he’d become these last few months. But there was definitely some ignorance there, and some presumption. Scott didn’t really want kids, but even if he did there were other ways to have them.

He’d been planning to tell his mother that same afternoon, after they’d eaten. But the time came, and went, and Scott didn’t say a word. She’d already taken a turn for the worst. The symptoms of her disease had taken hold of her and she was getting weaker by the day, sometimes unable to stand up for more than ten minutes at a time. They all knew there wasn’t much time left.

One day as the twins were hanging out in their room and their mother was asleep next door, Sara paused the show she was watching and turned to him.

“Scott.”

He looked up from the book he’d been reading. “Hmmm?”

“Have you told her… you know.”

“Told her what?” he replied, playing dumb.

She tilted her head and took on an exasperated expression as if to say _Come on now._ Scott rolled his eyes and put the book down.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Have you told dad?”

He considered lying for a moment. But it was Sara, she’d know.

“Yep.”

“So… don’t you think you should tell mom too? Like, soon?”

“Why? How’s it going to help?”

She took on a pitying expression that he hated seeing on her face. She knew he still had a hard time discussing it, and he knew he shouldn’t.

“Scott, c’mon we talked about that. It’s not about it ‘helping’ it’s about being open with the people you love and who love you. I mean you told dad for god’s sake and you two have had the knives out for each other these last few months.”

“Yea, I know it’s just… awkward.”

“Scotty, she’s not gonna be with us much longer. If you don’t talk to her now awkward or not, you might never have a chance to. Won’t you regret it if she’s gone and you can never do it?”

He thought about that for a moment, then sighed. She was right, he would.

“Yea,” he said, resigned.

“So what’s keeping you? Did dad say something stupid?”

“No.”

He realized as soon as it came was out of his mouth that the answer was too quick and too abrupt and wouldn’t be remotely believable, even to someone who didn’t know him as well as she did. As expected, Sara narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. He gave her a look which meant _I don’t want to talk about it_ or _you don’t want to know._

“Scott you know he’s not– “

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell her! You’re right.” he said quickly. He genuinely wanted to tell his mom. More importantly he did not want to get into the conversation he’d had with his father. “Are you… okay being there, when I do?”

“Of course.”

He nodded and they left it there. He’d do it tomorrow then.

  
***

  
The time had come. Why was he feeling nervous? He knew she’d be fine with it, definitely more so than his dad. But she didn’t look very well at all. She’d been ok when she woke up, but now she seemed paler than usual and a little sluggish. She’d eaten very little of her food. Maybe he shouldn’t…

“Mom?” he found himself saying, swirling a single pea on his plate with his fork. Sara had just taken her plate into the kitchen and left it hastily on the counter without even rinsing it off. She probably realized what was about to happen by his tone.

“Hmm?” his mom said turning to look at him.

“Mom I’m… gay” he said. He didn’t want to look up at her, focusing all his attention on the single pea. But he had to, so he slowly raised his head.

“Oh, baby, that’s ok” she said with a warm smile. “It doesn’t –” she coughed. “It – ”

More coughing. Stronger, louder. She grasped the table trying to steady herself and stand up.

“Mom?”

“Mom?”

Scott and Sara got up almost at the same time and rushed to her side. The coughing fit had turned violent and she coughed harder and louder, just as the front door was opening and their dad walked in. She stopped, then collapsed on the chair, head falling backwards.

 “Mom? MOM!” Sara was calling out to her and shaking her gently. Scott was scrambling, trying to figure out what to do. Ryder Sr. swooped in and knelt down in front of her, cupping her cheek.

“Ellen? Ellen? Ellen baby please…” he said as he patted her face, then put an ear against her lips to see if she was still breathing. He scooped her up in his arms and lifted her from the chair. “CALL AN AMBULANCE!” he shouted to them as he got her into the bedroom. Sara got up and picked up the phone. Scott followed behind him and stood at the door looking at her face as his dad placed her gently on the bed. She looked still and pale, and his dread mounted. _Dead???_

His dad got up from the bedside and walked over to him. “What the **HELL** happened?” he demanded, anger primed and ready to detonate. “She was fine this morning. You two were supposed to take care of her.”

“I… we were just talking and she…” Scott gulped. “And I…I told her –“

“Told her? Told her **what?** ” his father asked, eyes narrowing.

“I told her about… me. What I told you... She was fine, she –“

“I told you **NOT TO** tell her!” his father shouted through gritted teeth, shoving Scott backwards at the same time. He stumbled a bit and Ryder Sr. came at him again. “I **told** you **but you had to didn’t you!?** _”_ he shoved him again. Scott was stunned, his eyes and nose stinging as he looked at his father’s furious and accusatory face, then back at his mother’s still form.

Had he killed her? Had he just killed his mother?

“That had n… nothing to do with…” he stammered, trying to convince to himself with the words. Had he? It had all happened so fast. “She –“

“She is sick and you had to go and talk to her about **YOURSELF** , didn’t you? About whatever’s gone wrong in that fucked up little head of yours, because you’re selfish, and you didn’t give a shit about what it might do to her. Because it’s all about **YOU** , isn’t it!?”

Scott’s stomach twisted at the harsh words, and he felt like a steel knot had been shoved down the back of his throat. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and he wasn’t in the right state of mind to even remember – much less explain – why it wasn’t right or fair. And his dad wouldn’t have listened anyway like always. Like goddamn always… Or had he actually killed her? He felt like he was going to be sick.

“Dad, back off!” said Sara, coming in between them and shoving their dad backwards. “Scott had nothing to do with it!”

He looked at her and then back at Scott, unconvinced.

“Stay away from her!” he shouted and pointed a threatening finger towards him, then turned around and went back into the bedroom, Sara following close behind. Scott went back into the living room, trying to compose himself, breath quick and shallow, and hands shaking. He picked up her plate and his own to take them into the kitchen, but they slipped from his unsteady fingers. He fumbled and caught it, then flung it against the wall in frustration with all his strength, shattering it to a thousand pieces. The shards flew past his face, and one of them cut him on the left cheek, leaving a very a superficial but stinging cut behind. The last few minutes had been a blur, and his eyes watered at his father’s words as he was trying to remember exactly what had happened. _Selfish. So selfish._ He felt like he was going to choke on the guilt. Maybe that was better, maybe that was what he deserved.

The doorbell rang and he got up to answer it. The paramedics rushed in asking where the “casualty” was – Scott flinched at the word – and led them to the bedroom. They walked in with a carrier and loaded her up into the ambulance. There was only room for one other in the vehicle, so their dad went on it next to her, giving Scott another look full of blame and accusation as he passed by. The doors closed and Scott saw him holding their mom’s hand next to his mouth, holding onto it like it was his last lifeline. He stood there watching the ambulance drive off, and heard jingling of keys behind him, turning to see Sara grabbing her jacket.

“C’mon, we’ll take a cab” she said and nudged him forward.

Scott didn’t budge. It didn’t feel right. The steel knot in his throat had grown and felt like it had cut off his air supply for a moment.

“I…” he croaked, then cleared his thrat. “I don’t know if I should go.”

Sara frowned. She looked affronted. “Are you fucking kidding me? Mom is dying.”

Scott looked out, toward the direction the ambulance had gone. “Because of me, because I was selfish,” he muttered absently. “Because I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut – ”

He felt a sudden rush of shocking pain on his cheek followed by heat as Sara slapped him, hard. He raised his hand to rub at the spot, then turned to look at her, hurt. They’d never hit each other. Ever. He blinked as he felt some dampness rolling down his face. Whether it was a result of the stinging pain on his cheek or the intangible but intense one he felt inside he didn’t know.

“What…”

“It **WASN’T** your fault you idiot,” she said, her voice heavy and dead serious. “I was there when you told her, dad wasn’t. Don’t you dare act like she wasn’t ok with it,” she added, her expression angry and disappointed. “Her collapsing and passing out had nothing to do with you!”

Scott clenched his teeth, his jaw set and trying to will himself to keep it together. He could barely manage. He tried to replay the scene in his head. What had his mother said?

_Oh baby, that’s ok…_

Yes. _That’s ok,_ she’d said. And she was smiling when she said it. No hint of rejection or worry or disdain in her voice. She accepted him, and loved him, like she always had. He felt a surge of embarrassment. He really was an idiot. A real and genuine dumbass for ever having doubted her love for him; for ever believing she might reject him; for daring to think less of her; for letting his father’s harsh words get in his head.

Embarrassment turned to indignation at that last thought. How fucking dare he make Scott think less of her? How fucking dare he tell him to stay away from **his own mother.** And how the hell had Scott conceded even for a moment?

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s go.” he said his expression turning to a frown. She nodded, still angry at him for having thought less of their mom, but didn’t say anything more as he grabbed his own coat, then shut the door behind them.

Scott climbed into the cab, more determined than ever. If Ryder Sr. wanted to keep him away from his mom in her dying hour, then he was going to force his way through. If he truly wanted to stop him, he’d have to put his son down.

  
***

They arrived at the hospital about ten minutes after Ellen Ryder had been rushed into the ER. Their father was sitting in the waiting area outside, face buried in his hands. Scott had been gearing himself up for a fight all the way here, but his father merely peeked sideways to see them approach, then returned to his despair.

Sara was still mad, but they had to know what the situation was.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“The doctors are going to try and stabilize her condition. That’s all they told me”, he said.

Scott couldn’t bear to look at him. He felt anger, and disappointment, and hurt. He couldn’t forgive him, but seeing Ryder Sr. looking… lost, resigned, took the fight right out of him. He sat down on the far end of the bench, as far away from him as he physically could, with Sara between them. All three of them were silent and lost in thought.

They could do nothing but wait. Wait and wait and wait, for what felt like a million years.

After about half an hour, Scott couldn’t take it anymore. He got up to get a coffee, remembering that he’d spotted a vending machine around the corner earlier. He turned and headed towards it, feeling suffocated and drained of all his energy, wondering if he’d see her alive again. He stopped in front of it, then heard the machine beep as he paid the price, and pressed the buttons for ‘black coffee large’. It started whirring noisily, as it prepared the drink. A brown cardboard cup dropped down after a few seconds.

Scott picked it up from the machine and gave it a whiff. It smelled good. Soothing, warm, comforting, and with the promise of a much-needed energy boost contained within it. He turned to get back, then stopped dead as he saw his father standing there, hands in his coat pockets and eyes downcast.

He pictured himself throwing the scalding drink in his goddamn face but he refrained, then made a move to go around him.

“Scott, please” he heard as a hand landed on his shoulder, preventing him from leaving. The urge to break the hand and keep walking was almost overpowering. Instead, he looked down at it like it was a venomous snake. Ryder Sr. got the hint and dropped it from his shoulder. Scott willed himself to look up at his face without saying a word, waiting for him to speak. “I need to talk to you,” he said at last.

“And tell me what?” Scott snapped. “How I killed my own mother? How telling her something that’s of no real significance to her, you, or anyone else put her in her deathbed?” he said bitterly, looking his father in the eyes. At least Ryder Sr. had the decency to lower his gaze at the words.

“I –“

“Maybe you want to let me know how I’ve abandoned her, and considered her dead already? Hm?”

“I’m so–“

“Or even better, maybe you want to tell me how you’re just about to save her?” he jabbed a finger at his father’s shoulder.

“Scott I’m trying to –“

“How’s your AI coming along, dad? Huh?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s… it’s not there yet” Ryder Sr. replied, dejectedly.

“That’s what I thought. I’d remind you that mine and Sara’s futures were ruined because of it, but you’ll probably just call me selfish again, right? So let’s talk about how close it is to helping mom instead. How does that sound?”

No reply.

“C’mon dad. Tell me how much better that 0.0005% has gotten with 6 months of you poring over it. Tell me how easily your fucking AI can save mom now.”

“It can’t, okay!?” his father said in an outburst, voice cracking. “Is that what you want to hear me say? That I was wrong, and you were right?! That I should’ve been there from the start? That I’ve wasted time that I’ll never get back again and I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life?”

Scott was taken aback for a moment. It was a shock to hear his father admit he’d been wrong. But it was too little too late.

“Personally,” he said, “I don’t want anything from you right now, and possibly never again. But your wife – my mom – wanted, and still wants you, at her side in these last few moments. Your call.”

With that, he made a move to walk off again, but his father grabbed him by the wrist.

“Scott… please…”

Once again, his first instinct was to snatch his hand back and shove him away, but he didn’t. He was very proud of the self-control he was displaying right now. If this had happened when he first entered the hospital things would’ve gotten ugly. Now, he just turned to look at him again, and was stunned for the umpteenth time that day. Were his eyes shining? Were they... wet? No... it couldn’t be.

“Son, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said to you today, and when you came to my office a few weeks ago, and six months ago, and every day we’ve seen each other since you came back…It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t true, ANY of it, none of it. I’m sorry…”

Scott felt the by now all-too-familiar pinch at the back of his nose and his throat, which threatened to trigger the wetness in his own eyes. He clenched his jaw and tilted his head, quivering with the strain, eyes still locked with his father’s.

I’m so, **SO** , sorry…” his dad continued, choking at the last word. God damn it.

Alec Ryder the N7 didn’t choke on words. Alec Ryder the N7 didn’t cry. Alec Ryder the N7 didn’t break. Alec Ryder the N7 didn’t back down from a fight, or admit defeat, ever. And when his back was against the wall, Alec Ryder the N7 used it.

But at that moment, Alec Ryder the N7 wasn’t there.

Scott wanted to hate him, he really, really did. He wanted to hate him, and despise him, and never speak to him again. For all the awful things he’d said, for the things he had done, and for those he hadn’t. For clinging on to the most ridiculous, tiniest bit of hope he could’ve possibly clung to, and destroying his career for it. For getting his hopes up, then crushing them like ants.

But most of all he wanted to hate him for failing to come through with a miracle for her like he’d said he would.

He didn’t want to feel sorry for him. He didn’t want to sympathize with him. He didn’t want to forgive him. He’d fully resolved not to. Ever. His father’s grip on his wrist was turning painful, but he didn’t care. Maybe if he was physically hurt then Scott could finally hate him for good.

But he didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Fuck.

Unable to break eye contact, Scott’s eyebrows came together in a wounded expression, finally allowing his face to show how much his dad had really, truly _hurt_ him, these last few months. Allowing it to display his son's grief, and pain, and fear and his heart that ached because he was about to lose his mom. Allowing all the world to see the scared little boy that Scott felt like he was, every single day since he found out about her; a boy that needed his dad to be there and tell him things would be ok, but had instead received all the blame and made to feel like a selfish, worthless piece of shit who had given up on her, then made her worse.

“I’m so sorry… Scott” his father pleaded again, sounding desperate, alone, defeated, in pain. So much pain, just in his voice.

_Fucking dammit…_

“You’re a real fucking idiot dad, you know that?” he said shaking, two wet lines streaming down his cheeks. And as they fell, they took with them all of his hate, his disappointment, his resolve, and his anger, washing it all away like a wooden blockade in the path of a hurricane. He put the cup of coffee down on the windowsill next to him, then turned around quickly and pulled his dad into a crushing hug.

Alec Ryder returned it gratefully, scrunching up Scott’s t-shirt with his hands squeezing back, as the two men stood there weeping silently. Scott’s chest ached, as he tried to deal with the overwhelming medley of pain and forgiveness, of hurt and sympathy. And under all of that, was a son's love for his dad, which until a few seconds ago he’d been fully determined to withhold from this man, forever.

“I didn’t mean any of it son, I swear didn’t…”

“I know…”

“I love you and your sister so much and I’m so proud of both of you, you don’t even know how much…” he ranted, his voice breaking.

“It’s ok, I know damn it…” Scott said and squeezed him harder.

“I’m so sorry my boy... my strong, and smart, and kind, and mature baby boy…”

And so they stood there, father and son, atonement and forgiveness, dropping the transgressions and the harsh words that had preceded this moment and finally able to share their grief and loss in earnest. It had been the first time in his life when Scott felt like he’d truly peered under the mask, under the N7 title and the uniform, and saw Alec Ryder for who he really was. In that one moment, he was just another man, heartbroken and vulnerable, who loved his family more than he knew how to deal with.

Things had changed between them from then on, and they’d stayed close even after his mom finally passed away. And even when his dad’s ‘mask’ had eventually gone back on, Scott knew better. It wasn’t always easy to see the small gestures unless you were paying close attention, but they were there. Little things that meant more than what they seemed on the surface, like when he’d looked at him for a little while longer on the Hyperion’s bridge earlier. That had been his own way of saying ‘I’m glad you’re ok’.

But nonetheless, the situation in the hospital had been the first and only time Ryder Sr. had fully dropped that mask.

Until now.

Until Habitat 7.

Until he made him Pathfinder.

Until Alec Ryder saved his son’s life, by giving up his own.

He shook his head, trying to clear it from the emotional journey down memory lane, and wiped his face clean. Cora had said that he’d have two hours to gather himself and he’d spent at least one here, remembering his dad and those ugly months before his mother’s death.

And now his dad was dead too, choosing to save Scott’s life over his own, and Scott didn’t even have the time to mourn properly. For some bizarre reason, he’d chosen Scott to replace him as Pathfinder instead of Cora who was his second. He didn’t even know where to start. What was he even gonna tell Sara? All he remembered was his father smiling as he fell on the floor, and SAM’s voice…

_SAM._

SAM was linked to him “on a deeper level” now Lexi had said, and removing it could kill him. It was part of him now, like it had been part of his father. There was so much to process just about that one single fact that his head felt heavy with the exertion.

 _[Your father will be missed]_ said SAM, as if it’d read Scott’s mind. The voice sounded different, not like the comm link that SAM spoke through before.

 _On a deeper level._ What did that mean?

_SAM, can you hear my thoughts?_

No reply.

_SAM, ANSWER ME!_

Nothing. So the recesses of his mind were still his own.

“What’s going on SAM?” he asked.

_[This is our private channel. I shared it with Alec.]_

“Why’d he do it? Why me?”

_[Unknown. But he never acted without reason.]_

Scott raised an eyebrow at that.

“I don’t even know where to start…” he admitted. “I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

_[You also weren’t ready to fall out of the sky when we got to Habitat 7. But you managed to deal with that quite well.]_

 “Right… so, always keep a jump jet handy” he joked, getting up on his feet.

He took the transport shuttle to the hangar bay, and walked into the locker room where they’d gotten prepped for the Habitat 7 mission. As he went through the door, his eye fell on the ‘good-luck rock’ to his left, and he looked at it with disdain. It made him angry.

“Great fucking luck you were,” he said through clenched teeth as he felt anger and bile mounting and piling higher, ever higher, threatening to swallow him like a black hole. It was like all of it, all of the shit that had happened in Habitat 7, in Andromeda, even back in the Milky Way was this stupid rock’s fault. It was its fault that he’d been discharged, its fault that his mom had gotten sick, its fault that she’d died, its fault that the habitats were inhospitable to life, its fault that the mission had gone to shit, its fault that his dad killed himself trying to save Scott’s life…

His arm glowed blue and he lifted the thing with a Pull field, then twisted it with a Warp, his lip trembling and his eyes misting as his mind illogically blamed the rock for everything that had gone wrong. He heard it shatter and crack loudly, as it was crushed by the force of the dark energy to a hundred small pieces. He crushed it and twisted it, until the warp field started growing unstable and he released it with a shudder, not wanting to tear a hole in the Ark and in himself. The pieces of the shattered rock clattered to the floor noisily, scattering around the room.

Sam picked up on the havoc his brain must’ve been playing on the rest his body.

_[I’m sorry about Alec, Scott. I will miss him too. But consider that he wouldn’t want us to lose sight of the goal. He said pain emboldens our resolve. He’d insist we grow stronger from his passing.]_

He let a breath out through still clenched teeth. That definitely sounded like him. Scott could almost picture him saying the words.

There was so much information, so many feelings, so much chaos in his brain right now. If he sat down and tried to analyze all of it he knew he’d get overwhelmed in less than a second.

A man walked into the room, having heard the loud Warp effect from outside.

“Everything okay Pathfinder?”

Scott felt a little embarrassed and pretended to rub his tired eyes, wiping away anything that would betray the turbulence in his head with a quick motion.

“Yep, all good. Sorry I got a little carried away. I’ll clean it up –”

“Absolutely not Pathfinder, I’ll deal with this,” the man said and picked up a broom nearby, starting to sweep up the mess. Scott was about to tell him to stop, and that he absolutely did **NOT** want people bowing and scraping because he was the Pathfinder, but the man spoke up again:

“I’m sorry about your father, Pathfinder.”

Ah, so that’s what it was. People knew already. Made sense. He nodded in appreciation.

“Thanks…”

“Bailey, sir.”

“Thanks, Bailey. And please, call me Ryder” he added.

“Yes, sir. I mean yes, Ryder.”

Scott looked around at the mess he’d made, that Bailey had so kindly offered to clean up. He bent down and picked up two pieces of the good luck rock, then walked around to his locker on the other side and placed one of them inside. He’d keep one for himself, and the other for Sara. Something by which to remember his father, a piece of him that Scott could always carry. He pushed his piece against his forehead, then stuffed it in his shirt’s front pocket. He made a mental note to get it placed on a chain at some point.

As stricken as he was feeling, Sam had been right. He couldn’t lose sight of the goal. For whatever reason, fate, or luck, or circumstance had put him in this position. A whole lot of people depended on the Pathfinder, and he couldn’t let them down.

He remembered Shepard, and his father, and how they’d both always strived to lead with their example. He wasn’t their equal, and wasn’t sure whether he was ready or whether he even wanted this position, but that was of no consequence at this point. Being the Pathfinder had become his duty, and would become his number one priority. That was all that mattered. If Scott Ryder the man needed to take second place for a while to make room for the role of the Pathfinder, so be it. He would see this burden through, whatever the cost. For a hope of home.

With his resolve turned to unyielding steel, and that monumental decision seared into his core, Scott pushed aside all his troubles, all his questions, all his doubts, all his grief, and all his loneliness at being the last member of his family standing here in this vast new galaxy.

He’d deal with all that, another time.

Without even realizing it, and in more ways than one, Scott Ryder had truly set out to become his father’s son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ufffff, another chunky one here. It was a little heavy on the angst, but this kind of thing was sorely missing from the game I thought. But, that should be it in terms of angst for the next few chapters. 
> 
> Writing this one was very enjoyable. As always, feedback (or even passing comments) are more than welcome. Drop by and let me know if you enjoyed the chapter (or not!)
> 
> Note 1:  
> We are not entirely done with Scott's past. The time between his mother's death and Andromeda is still there, and will be re-visited at a relevant time.
> 
> Note 2:  
> I've changed the first meeting of the Ryder family. We see the actual meeting in the "Ryder Family secrets" memory trigger, but I felt the original scene fell a little flat *shrug* so I'll be changing the memory trigger accordingly.
> 
> Note3:  
> I friggin love ParagonShep. His pre-Normandy timeline matches perfectly with Scott's early years of service, so that's what’s happening.
> 
> In the next chapter we will be returning to Gil.


	7. Out of the Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil has been working day and night on the Nexus these last few months. Things aren't looking great, and it doesn't seem like the situation will improve anytime soon. When things take an abrupt U-turn, he finds himself quite unprepared for what he's about to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions and (light) spoilers for the Mass Effect Andromeda: Nexus Uprising book in this chapter.

Nexus flight control deck - 09:30 AM – Fourteen months after Nexus arrival to Andromeda

A pinging noise and a bright orange glow brought yet another emergency notification to his attention. There had already been three of those within a five-hour span.

This was gonna be one of those days…

He let out a sigh and tapped on it.

**_Sector 3 life support - capacity at 20%_ **

What the hell? That sector had been fine a couple of hours ago, he’d run all the checks himself.

Sector three meant a big chunk of the temporary living quarters, and twenty percent life support was **just** about enough for Turians to stay alive. If there were any humans there they’d start having serious health problems within the hour, depending on what kind of hazard was reducing the life support levels. He punched in a few commands to bring up a report on the current occupants of sector three hoping against hope that there’d be no humans stationed there and he could deal with it a few hours later.

The long report came up with all the stats for the sector and Gil scrolled down until he found what he needed.

**Occupant species:**

  * **Salarian**
  * **Human**
  * **Asari**



Pretty much everything except turians. Well, shit.

“Anyone taking this?” came Kesh’s voice over the comms, her deep Krogan timber carrying just as much annoyance as Gil felt with those goddamn systems. Nothing would stay stable for more than few hours around here.

A turian named Calix Corvannis and his team had initially been the ones responsible for life support aboard the Nexus. But then they’d all decided to become the ringleaders of the rebellion, and had all died or been exiled. So now, among everything fucking else, life support maintenance was also part of Gil’s duties.

“Brodie? You’re working on a console aren’t you?” said another of the technicians.

“Yea, I’m on it” he shot back. He paused the task he’d been working on – trying to optimize lighting intensity – and ran the access commands to bring up the Nexus systems and diagnostics, then pushed five fingers against the Omnitool. A quick scan of each fingerprint verified his identity and authorization level, granting him access.

A hologram of the Nexus came up, and he spun it around with a gesture. Each sector was supposed to be highlighted in a relevant color that indicated its current status. Dark signified offline; white meant stable and fully functional; yellow was functional with some low priority issues; orange meant slightly serious but not life-threatening issues; and blinking red for immediate attention with risk of loss of life.

That, was in theory.

For the last six months, every single sector’s life support system was permanently orange. Sector three was now flashing an angry red. Gil poked at it and brought up the error logs, then read the first line:

**Abrupt radiation exposure increase  
Source: Unknown energy phenomenon [Scourge]**

He brought up the time stamp for the radiation spike event. It had happened roughly thirty minutes ago. He tapped some commands into his Omnitool to bring up any notable events or low-level alerts throughout the Nexus within the last thirty minutes, hoping to get something usable.

How naïve of him.

The Omnitool spewed a huge list with lines and lines of errors and issues. He rolled his eyes and started filtering.  
                First by _life support,_ to narrow down issues that affected life support only. The list got considerably smaller.  
                Then he tried for _hull sensors_ , since the temporary living quarters were somewhat close to the hull. The list got smaller still. Whether it would contain what he needed in the end remained to be seen.  
                Lastly, he specified by the hull surface area above Sector 3. The list shrunk again, now containing only two events:

  1. **Small asteroid impact – repelled by shields, no damage.**
  2. **[Scourge] phenomenon in close proximity – Radiation shielding low on power. Cannot repel radiation by [Scourge]. Hull otherwise intact.  
Proposal: Immediate power increase of 10% or more to the radiation shielding, in order to avoid cellular damage to occupants, from exposure to vast quantities of ionizing radiation.**



_No shit,_ he thought. Those VIs and their ‘proposals’ were bloody useless. **Everything** needed a power increase on the Nexus. They were running seriously low on juice and all they could do was play whack-a-mole with systems that needed more or less energy on a day-by-day basis, taking from one to give to the other. He tapped his comms button:

 _“_ We have a radiation spike from a Scourge tendril near us” he relayed. “I can re-route power to boost the shielding by 10% but as usual, something else will have to take a hit. Kesh?”

He waited a few seconds before the comms buzzed up.

“Hmmm…” said the Krogan thoughtfully, “I remember seeing something running at around fifty percent yesterday night. See if you can shift things from there.”

“Any idea where that was?”

“It was a central system but something that could take a small hit. Can’t remember which one specifically, sorry.”

“It’s fine” he said and spun the hologram of the Nexus again. He tapped on his Omnitool, typing in ‘ _capacity: 50’,_ and hitting the little magnifying glass to begin the search _._ The tool did some indexing and rifled through the Nexus systems for a few long moments, then returned results:

**0 entries**

Oh for god’s sakes…

“Kesh, I can’t find any systems running at fifty percent. Are you sure it was fifty?”

“I said _around fifty_ Gil. Broaden your search parameters.”

“Ok” Gil replied and began typing again _. ‘Capacity: 40-60’_ , then search. The tool began indexing and searching once again, a little longer this time, then…

 **3 entries**  
  
**Transport terminals: 40% capacity [variable]**  
**Nexus Command: 42% capacity**  
**Nexus Hydroponics: 58% capacity**

Gil frowned. Kesh must’ve meant Hydroponics, but that was one of the most important sections on the whole Nexus. Along with the very strict rationing – courtesy of Vetra Nyx – it was the only thing that kept them alive, even though it had suffered major setbacks; which to be fair had basically become a running theme in Andromeda.

Hydroponics had really suffered. First had been the Scourge, which Gil hadn’t been awake for, but had been filled in on what happened. The way it was supposed to work, was that several weeks before their arrival in the Heleus cluster the first seeds would be placed by automated systems, so that a crop would already be started as the crew was revived. But the Scourge had hit them, and part of the damage had been to the plants and buds growing in Hydroponics. They had all been irradiated, and were shrivelled and dead when they came out of Cryo. So they’d started a new batch, and just as it was about to hit usable growth, the rebellion happened, and the fire. What an ugly time…

“Kesh, did you mean Hydroponics?” he asked.

“Yep, that was it. What is it currently running on?”

“Fifty eight percent, but isn’t that the one that needs the most juice?”

“Yes, but a temporary drop isn’t going to make a difference to the plants. The Scourge tendril will pass by in a day or two at most, and we can shift the power back then.”

“Fair enough. I’ll do it now.”

“Great. Oh, and when you’re done please come by my office asap. There’s some news we need to discuss, in person.”

Gil raised an eyebrow.

“Copy that, be there in about thirty” he said, keeping his voice flat to mask the question that was forming in his mind.

It wasn’t completely unheard of, but Kesh didn’t usually call him in when there was work to do. And there was always work to do. There was a private channel available on the comms through which she usually contacted each of them if she wanted the rest of the engineers not to overhear. What could possibly require a visit?

Probably nothing good.

He pondered that as he tapped on Hydroponics on the hologram. It was split into five subsections.

It would probably be better to just move two percent from each of those, since that would tax an individual subsection less than if he took the whole thing from one of them. He adjusted the numbers on all five, then increased the power on the radiation shielding for section three by ten percent and punched in his authorization code to confirm. His Omnitool beeped, which meant the command had gone through to Kesh, who had final say on all power adjustments and re-routing procedures and would have to approve the directive.

“Two percent from each subsection. Good thinking” came the Krogan’s approving voice over the comms.

“Yea but I’m telling you right now I’ll be letting **you** deal with Doctor Camden, Kesh. I don’t know aaanything about this” he said innocently. The man was not the friendliest sort, and Gil had no patience for a lecture.

“Heh, don’t you worry, a nice headbutt will sort him out real quick”, she joked.  
                Or at least… Gil hoped she’d been joking. Otherwise they were probably about to lose the only person capable of providing them with food, water and air in this damn mess of a place. He rubbed his forehead, remembering the way he’d met Kesh, and the intense pain that the Krogan’s headbutt entailed.

He began walking to the transport station to get to Nexus Command where Kesh’s office was, taking the time to do some thinking and some guessing. Maybe something, somewhere had gone terribly wrong with the Nexus. It wouldn’t be the first time…

When he’d first laid eyes on it, it’d seemed like something out of every engineer’s wet dreams. The _most magnificent structure ever built by Milky Way races_ , a miraculous invention of the brightest minds in the universe, automation and innovation around every corner. Now, with the lights off in most sections, the Arks two months late, resources fading quickly and only about a hundred people out of Cryo, it seemed more like a tomb. A tomb where ghosts roamed, haunting dark passageways and unlit corridors. He began to sift through his mind trying to sort out all the shit that’d happened these last eight months.

He had initially been brought out of Cryo about six months earlier than his assignment had indicated, five months after the Nexus had arrived in Andromeda, instead of eleven and a half. As expected, the waking up had been a terrible experience. For the first ten minutes he’d felt like he was at death’s door. The technician asked him how he was feeling and he’d demonstrated by throwing up – thankfully not on the man, but still. They performed a quick exam on him and he was given few drugs and some kind of disgusting protein sludge, then cleared for duty. Gil was no expert, but he was sure that the procedure for coming out of Cryo was supposed to be more extensive than that, so he’d asked if that was it. All he was told was that it was fine and there was no time for anything more. Before he even had a chance to process the fact that they were in a new galaxy, he got a work uniform and a quick brief where he learned that his skillset was _urgently required_ – hence the early wake-up. He and a few others would have to prepare _some shuttles_ that’d be launched to nearby Habitats, with crews that would seek out resources.

 _That’s the brief everybody, no time for questions, you have four days, good luck._ He’d been puzzled and frustrated and still had the shivers for a full two hours even after he got to work.

 ** _Some_** _shuttles_ apparently meant **_seven_** _shuttles_ in four days, which was a ridiculously rushed task. Under normal circumstances, that kind of work would need about a week to do, since it included doing full checks and diagnostics on every single system of every single shuttle, stocking them with supplies and rations based on the crew that would board them, testing flight capabilities, shielding and so on and so forth. Frankly it all felt like an elaborate joke at first, and as far from an organized effort as Gil could’ve imagined.  
                But, as odd and urgent as the whole situation had been, he’d actually been glad to get his hands on real work, work that he was really good at. He’d gotten into it with such single-minded focus that he took his meals – such as they were – while working, and even slept in the shuttles to save time in finding living quarters and having to go back and forth. At some point, somehow having found out that he’d been awakened early, Vetra had even paid him a visit. But as glad as he’d been to see her, they didn’t have time to catch up because he was so deeply mired in the task. On the other hand, his determination to get it done also seemed to have an effect on the others. They were all eager and ready to do what’s necessary to make it happen, and seeing how efficient and determined he was they’d begun turning to Gil to ask which tasks he thought they should tackle and in which order.

In the end, exhausted and overworked, they’d finished everything within the four days and the shuttles launched successfully. That earned them all one day’s rest before reassignment, which Gil had decided to use to try and figure things out.

Once he had time to make the rounds and pick up on the general mood, he could immediately see that other people who’d been woken up from the start weren’t as enthusiastic as him and the other shuttle engineers. Their morale and positivity had been stretched, almost exhausted even. Instead of finding himself in the midst of new adventure and excited pioneers he saw disillusionment and cynicism all around the Nexus and it wasn’t very hard to see why. The information he got from people who were quick to gossip about what had gone down was an endless tide of bad news that grew worse and worse the more he heard.

Then he’d messaged Vetra, who’d told him that the Nexus had hit a massive energy cloud on arrival to the Heleus Cluster dubbed ‘the Scourge’. It had damaged all sorts of systems, destroyed a lot of cryo pods, and killed many, many people; including Jien Garson and all the senior leaders aboard the Nexus. She also told him that the leadership had fallen to Tann, a Salarian ‘accountant’ that was miles down the succession line, but Gil couldn’t care less about that. When he heard that there was damage to cryo pods and people had died he realized he had no idea whether Jill was safe or not, and had gone right into panic mode. He’d asked Vetra if she knew what sections had been damaged since he knew she’d have asked about her sister. She had, but didn’t know about any section other than Sid’s, because apparently senior management kept a tight lid on that information. She directed him to Superintendent Kesh, who in her words was ‘quite understanding’ and did share some information with friends and relatives.

So thanks to the coiled snake in the pit of his stomach and being the hothead that he was, his next move had been to try and storm into Kesh’s office. He’d found it quickly and tried to get in, but the door was locked. He put his ear on it and was sure that he could hear a voice, loud and booming and talking, which meant someone was definitely in there. There was no way he could wait for them to come out. He’d barely held it together on the tram trip across the transport station. If something had happened to Jill he’d be crushed. He had to know, now.

He knocked.

No reply.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

Fleshy hands didn’t make much noise on a thick metallic surface so he knocked harder, and harder, then began pounding on the huge door with his fist.

After a few seconds it opened just enough for a Krogan’s face to come through, annoyance clear on her face.

“I am in a conference call, what is it?”

“I need to know the status of the Genetic Sciences team” he said, breath quick and rushed.

“Like I said, I’m busy. Come back **later** ” Kesh said, and the doors closed.

Now might already be too late. Later was impossible. He had to know.

He started banging on the doors again, then heard a slight mechanical hiss. He recognised it as a sound dampening effect, applied to the middle layer of the doors that stopped noise from going through.

The panic rose, as if seeing the doors close had meant the end for Jill. He decided to do what was probably one of the most stupid things he’d ever done – which was saying a lot. He activated his Omnitool and _hacked_ the door controls. It wasn’t a hack that required any refined skill, more of a lucky guess and the knowledge on how to exploit a vulnerability but the result was the same nonetheless.

The doors hissed and slid open, and he took a few steps in towards the Krogan, who was standing in the middle of the room and had stopped talking to whoever was on the other side of her comms. She turned to look at him incredulously like he’d gone mad, then growled in a menacing tone and walked towards him as she realized what he’d done. Gil didn’t stop until they were face to face.

“I **NEED** , to know” he said through clenched teeth as he saw her pull back her head, “the status of UGH! –”  
                He groaned and staggered backwards, as she smashed her thick skull into his. His vision swam for a few seconds and when it returned it brought with it a roaring hot pain that felt like his head would literally split open. A pain intense, and blinding and concentrated at the point of impact then spreading outwards around his entire cranium almost going down his spine. He had to blink a few times to clear his eyes and focus.

The krogan took advantage of his disorientation pushing him back with one strong hand, and he fell on backwards just outside the threshhold of the doors. She was about to slide them shut again but Gil quickly put his foot in between, stomach coiled with worry and head pounding from pain.

They closed on his foot and it hurt like a bitch, but thankfully she hadn’t used enough force to break it. She growled in his face and Gil was sure he was about to get knocked out cold. If he was lucky.

“Please…” he said desperately, grabbing his forehead as if to lessen the ridiculous amount of pain, and pushing himself up. “My best friend is in there. I **need** to know.”

She stopped growling and her gaze softened a touch. She let out a huff of breath.

“Everything okay?” came a voice from the other end of the line. Sounded like a turian.

“Yes. Just get it done please, we’ll speak later” she said and tapped her Omnitool to shut off the commlink. She stepped back from the opening, and the doors widened. She looked Gil up and down, then turned to walk toward her office. He followed her in, limping just slightly.

“Sit” she said tersely and pointed to a chair.

Gil was about to decline when he'd thought better of it. He’d pushed his luck quite far already, so he took the chair silently and lowered himself into it. Plus his head was killing him and holding his head up was an incredible endavor. Kesh sat across him behind her desk and looked at him for a long moment, daring him to speak. He pursed his lips, but waited even though he felt his insides were doing a conga dance.

“You have **some** balls on you” she said. “And a thick skull, for a human. Most of your kind would be knocked out by that.”

_I think I would've preferred getting knocked out..._

“I’ve always been thick headed” he groaned. “Please, can you tell me if the Genetic Sciences team is safe? I –”

“Need to know, yes, I got that. You’re damn persistent if nothing else” she said and tapped a few commands on her Omnitool. She scanned through the results, her eyes moving silently from line to line. “They’re all safe, no damage has been done to their pods” she said finally.

Gil let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes, then leaned back on the chair as he felt the snake uncoil and crawl out of his stomach.

But there was no relaxing. Now that he knew that Jill hadn’t died a horrible death his brain had all the capacity to focus on the pain, and his body started shaking a little. Probably the adrenaline from coming out alive after an altercation with an angry Krogan.

“Sorry. For breaking in” he said, the words coming out a little slurred.

The Krogan turned around and reached behind her desk then pulled something out and handed it to him.

An ice pack.

He took it gratefully and placed it against his pounding, painful head. The cool sensation spread immediately and took away some of the heat and the pain, but he could tell there was a slight bump already forming from the hit.

“How did you do it?” she asked and gestured towards him with her head. “These doors are pretty much impenetrable once locked.”

“Yea, Ariake Technologies hardware, Tungsten and titanium alloy and so on…” Gil said slowly, eyes half closed. He had never been one for false modesty, and some other time he would've fully gloated about it. But the pain was almost unbearable, and even though the ice helped, it wasn’t by much. How he’d just powered through it a minute ago he had no idea. “But the control software is actually an adaptation – or a ripoff, if you will – of Saronis Applications’ Secure Access Control Module. We had similar doors in one of the bases I used to work… These ones you've got here are newer, but they don’t have the update that Saronis made later.”  
                He paused for a moment and checked to see whether the Krogan was following along or if it was all technical babble to her. She didn’t seem puzzled or bewildered. More like intrigued. He went on, voice low and words slow:  
“There’s a vulnerability. When you shut the doors immediately after opening them they go into ‘suspend’ mode, instead of ‘lock’ mode. They’d originally done this to prevent people from being locked out if they left in a hurry. But it turned out to also be somewhat of a security risk for non-technical users. It doesn’t notify them of the mode change, so it’s only visible if they check the status of the door in the software.”

“Which clearly, people don’t” she remarked, the corners of her mouth moving upwards in the tiniest hint of a smile. She was definitely following. Enjoying it even. But Gil would take an amused Krogan over an angry one any day of the week.

“Clearly” he agreed. “Saronis have updated their software since then but they were more careful  with encrypting their code. So Ariake couldn’t rip off the update and took ages to figure out and roll out a fix since they had such a wide range of models. I had to make a patch for it myself throughout the base so I know where to look for it.”

“I see.”

It was said quickly and left hanging without impact. She was expecting him to say something more, obviously.

“Yea… I’m uh… sorry,” he apologized again, “and thank you.” He made sure to keep his voice as low as when he’d had that hangover before the trip to Andromeda. But the memory of that hangover’s headache seemed like a child’s notion of a headache compared to the pain he was feeling now. Maybe this was it was like for Biotics when their implant did its thing. If the choice was between a prolonged hangover or a Krogan headbutt he now knew for sure which one he’d go for.

She nodded. “You’re welcome, uh… What’s your name?”

“Gil. Gil Brodie.”

“You’re welcome, Gil Brodie. Now since you’ll probably have trouble getting up to leave for the next few minutes at least, how about you tell me what you do on the Nexus?”

They’d chatted for a while after that and Gil had stayed in her office for more than an hour, partly because he was in serious pain, and partly because she was actually interesting.

She’d then looked up his file and decided she could use his skills when he was due for reassignment, since there wouldn’t be any other shuttles launched anytime soon. The first task she got him to work on was making a patch for the security vulnerability on the doors which had taken a solid few days to recreate, test and rollout to every functional door on the Nexus.

But after that, anything was fair game. Gil worked on all kinds of different things that needed urgent attention, from security systems support to ventilation control and food storage databases.

Much to his surprise, he’d found working with her really enjoyable. She was much more than a ‘Superintendent’, and had some incredible engineering skills herself. He learned that she’d basically been in charge of building this place, and knew pretty much all of it inside and out. She’d shown him some of the schematics and Gil had been as awed as when he first saw the Nexus from afar, while at  the same time being horrified and appalled by the extent of the damage that the Scourge had caused. They’d spent a lot of their few precious hours of downtime talking about the unfolding process, the flight through dark space, what needed to be built, fixed, how it would be done and so on, and Gil was fascinated by all of it.

Beyond that, Kesh eventually began trusting him with more sensitive info as well, so he also learned about the shit that went down ‘behind the scenes’ first hand.

There had been about a thousand people woken up in total, to help fix all the damage from the Scourge and establish a functional station, but the whole thing was on a steep decline. They didn’t have enough resources to perform repairs, and the people who were awake needed food which was quickly running out. Hoarding and even stealing had begun to occur here and there throughout the station, as people were picking up on the bad vibe and the downward spiral that the Nexus seemed to be on and getting led by their survival instincts. It was getting worse by the minute, but hearing about the stupid decisions behind it all – at least the few that Kesh was made aware of – made it even worse.

The sorry excuse of a leadership they’d been saddled with had made a humongous mess of things between them and kept doing so, more and more each day. The triumvirate was made up of Jarun Tann, who had been Deputy Assistant for Revenue Management before the other leaders’ deaths, Foster Addison, Director of Colonial Affairs and Sloane Kelly, the Security Director.

According to Kesh, Tann was nothing but trouble. Not having being prepared or trained to lead such an incredible endeavor as the Initiative and thinking he knew better than everyone due to his ‘amazing Salarian intellect’ he made power plays, was mired in race politics that should’ve been left behind in the Milky Way, and generally tried to manipulate people into doing what he wanted.

Foster Addison on the other hand had fallen into a deep depression because of Jien’s death and her own perceived uselessness due to having no colonies she could direct. She’d left things to William Spender. Gil had only met that idiot twice, but he could tell that he was the slimiest of the slimy politicians, trying to gain favour with everyone while hiding his true motives behind fake smiles and feigned compliments.  He would have been the shittiest poker player in the world if he played, Gil was sure.

And Sloane Kelly was apparently the one who really tried her damnedest to make things stay afloat and was the more straight-talking of the three who didn’t deal with bullshit. But having been a veteran Alliance marine with a short fuse she also didn’t have a lot of patience, or any diplomacy or tact skills whatsoever. That in turn made Tann try to go around her back by swaying Addison to his side, which made Sloane angry and caused more fights and more disagreements.

He also heard that at some point – before Gil had been woken up – Tann had asked for volunteers to go back into Cryostasis so they could preserve supplies and rations and ‘save the mission’.

Absolutely no one had volunteered to return to Cryo. In fact, the shuttles which Gil had been woken early to help launch were actually a desperate bid by Tann and Addison to search for resources in the nearby Habitats – and also get Addison doing something, to get her out of her funk. They’d made that decision in Sloane’s absence, because Sloane had insisted that they keep the shuttles there, in case they need to evacuate the Nexus population urgently.

Gil had felt very annoyed upon learning that he’d been a pawn in political games, and more so since these idiots seemed to be knee deep in said games. Andromeda was supposed to be about new beginnings, but the old bullshit still applied.

It had been nine and a half weeks since the shuttles had been launched and no one had heard a word from any them, which didn’t bode well at all. The Scourge interfered with communications but if their missions had been successful some of them should’ve returned by that point.

To top that all off, people were getting scared, angry and impatient. Gil had seen folks in desperate situations before and he recognized the signs. The uncertainty for the shuttle mission; dwindling resources; strict rationing and the first signs of hunger; growing discontent and mutterings throughout the population… It made the whole place feel like a hive of wasps, just waiting for the small trigger that would send them into a frenzy.

He was working on a coolant leak near the living quarters when that trigger came. The speakers buzzed to life, and Addison’s voice sounded grim as she made the announcement:

“This is Director Addison,” she began. “As many of you know, ten weeks ago Colonial Affairs sent out a fleet of vessels to scout the nearest worlds— ones that might be suitable for habitats or, in some cases, offer resources from which to resupply our dwindling stores. Barring that, to find a place where we could move our population in the event that the station ceases to support the mission. I am sad to announce that those missions have failed.”

His heart had sunk. He’d known it probably wouldn’t have gone well, but getting confirmation made it a fact, no margin of miniscule hope left. They’d all failed, all seven of them. Addison continued:

“The worlds we identified from afar have all been struck by the same mysterious phenomenon that caused such great damage to the Nexus— what most of us now refer to as ‘the Scourge’. One of our ships did not return, and search-and-rescue efforts are continuing as I speak. While we all hope for the safety of the members of that mission, we must now turn our focus to the survival of the Nexus and its inhabitants.” She paused.

Shit.

If she was going to say what Gil thought she would, it’d be something to do with Cryo. And it would probably not go down well.

“You’ve all done an amazing job these last few months. Critical problems have been resolved. The station may still require an incredible amount of work before it is ready to perform its mission, but it is stable. You should all be extremely proud of this accomplishment!”  
                Another pause there.

 _Accomplishment my ass,_ he thought. If barely staying alive was an accomplishment they should all be decorated Generals by now. She was just sweetening the pot before she fed them the bitter medicine. He’d sat back against the wall, and waited for the other shoe to drop, as she went on:

“Our primary concern now is one of supplies,” Addison said. “We simply do not have the resources needed to sustain our revived population. With the lack of habitable worlds near us, and the continued issues plaguing hydroponics, we have no choice but to wait until several crops can be harvested and stored. Alternatively, we will eventually be contacted by the Pathfinders on their arrival a few months from now and a solution will come from them.”  
                “Several weeks ago we asked for volunteers to return to stasis. None of you were willing to do that, and we understood your reasons. Unfortunately we have no alternative now. I must ask you to remember the words of Jien Garson. ‘We make the greatest sacrifice any of us have ever, or will ever, make.’ The time has come for a mandatory return to stasis for all non-essential personnel.” And there it was. Another short silence, to let that sink in.  
                “Team leaders will be briefed shortly. Within the next twenty-four hours you will be contacted by security, who will escort you to your stasis pod and oversee the process. We look forward to your cooperation.”

He’d shaken his head. A lot of people, maybe even most, would comply, but all it’d take would be a few being unhappy about this to get things to turn ugly. And who could blame them? At least being awake, it felt like you had some control over your life. The cryo pods seemed more and more like frozen coffins when you considered the collision course that things seemed to be on. He’d finished his work and was gathering up his tools, ready to head back to Engineering when the PA crackled on again.

“This is Calix Corvannis,” came a turian voice, “and I am here to tell you all to say no. Say no! Resist the order to return to stasis.”

After that, as expected, things had gone to shit within the hour. People in an uproar, multiple alerts going off, Sloane Kelly’s Security team shouting orders for people to stay indoors in their living quarters, gunshots, people dead, a fire in hydroponics, the Krogan being unleashed to put down the rebels in an ugly and bloody fight then denied their promised reward… All a big shit pile that came to a peak, just adding onto the level of failure that the great Andromeda Initiative had reached.

And the months following all that nastiness and leading up to today’s bullshit hadn’t been any better. People had been led back to their stasis pods, and only about a hundred personnel were kept out. Vetra had stayed, as a kind of unofficial quartermaster in charge of supplies and rations, and Kesh had also kept Gil out of the pods because he was ‘versatile’. But that hadn’t really been a good thing.

The work was never ending, with no respite, long hours, and no end in sight. It had taken them two months to repair the damage that was done to hydroponics after the fire, and the food crops weren’t salvageable. What they’d managed to grow since then was meager and barely able to keep the reduced population going, along with the rations which were going to last another eight months at best. And the worst part was that every time a little bit of hope came up, it was squashed soon after.

First, more shuttles had been sent to Habitat 1, Eos. They even managed to get a settlement going there, Site 1. Then it was deemed unliveable due to extremely high levels of radiation and undrinkable water and was abandoned.

Then there was the second one, Site 2, which had been established, had slightly more liveable conditions, then the people were attacked and massacred by those weird aliens that people called ‘Kett’. First contact, and it had happened with a hostile species that wanted to murder them all. So now they also had to worry about the Nexus being discovered by the Kett. If that happened, the way they were now? It’d be _goodbye Initiative_.

Then they’d come up to the one year ‘anniversary’ of their arrival to Andromeda, which was when the Arks were supposed to arrive, and none of them had. Not a single one out of the four.

The comms arrays were mostly scrambled, but they’d managed to fix some of them in anticipation of the Arks’ arrival. Then the allotted arrival time came and went. One week passed with no contact, then two, then a month. After that they’d finally shut down most of the arrays because they needed the power elsewhere.

Each of these endeavors had taken significant resources away from the Nexus, and each of them had ended in failure. Always failure. How much hope could you hold out?

The transport terminal came to a halt, and he was pulled out of the nihilistic train of thought. This shit wasn’t really like him anyway. Gil took each day as it came and screw the rest.

He got off then turned left and headed to Kesh’s office.

The doors slid open and he saw Vetra and Kesh standing there, engaged in lively conversation. They stopped and turned to look at him as he walked in.

“There’s, my favourite human” said Kesh. Vetra waved.

“Hey Gil.”

“Hey, feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Yeah well, you know, a quartermaster’s duties never end and all that.”

“I bet” he nodded sympathetically. “Kesh, should I come back later or…?”

“Nope, Vetra is part of the reason I wanted to talk to you here. Four hours ago, we received what seemed to be a signal from the Hyperion” she said and paused, letting that sink in.  
                Gil’s heart lurched. The Hyperion? Also known as the human Ark? He looked from Kesh, to Vetra and back again, trying to ascertain whether they were winding him up. But their triumphant smirks seemed legitimate. He had to ask outright.

“Do you mean…” he started. Then he stopped and swallowed, trying to moisten his throat that had suddenly gone very dry. “Do you mean that an Ark will actually arrive at the Nexus?”

The Krogan’s smirk broadened.

“It literally just did” she said reassuringly. “When we last spoke half an hour ago, I only had the signal, but while you were on your way they arrived, and are now docked. I’ve just come from a meeting with the Pathfinder.”

Gil looked at her like she’d told him that Krogan could fly. Had he heard that right? An Ark was actually here? And a _Pathfinder?_

He stood there for a moment, shock and disbelief colouring his face in equal measure.  
                “Holy shit.” he exhaled and rubbed a hand over his forehead as the reality slowly sunk in. It was actually happening. Something was going to go right in this godforsaken place. “Then if the Ark is docked, the power switch in hydroponics…”

“Was ultimately unnecessary, yes, but still had to be done. We weren’t entirely sure that this was an Ark until now, you know how Heleus is with scrambled readings.”

Fuck the readings and fuck the unnecessary work! An Ark had arrived! An actual **Ark**!

“Who cares, this is brilliant!” he said enthusiastically, finally letting the excitement wash over him. “This means we have extra power now and don’t need to play surgery with the requirements of vital systems!”

Kesh nodded. “Already ahead of ya, Hydroponics is running at full power. And, have a look outside.”

Gil turned to the window and looked down. Lights. The entirety of the docking station was now fully lit, instead of being cast in that gloomy darkness that made it look haunted. He huffed with joy and relief then turned back to them. “Holy shit I almost can’t believe it” he said and shook his head incredulously. “Are things actually looking up?”

“They are indeed” Kesh nodded, then turned to Vetra with a knowing look. “Care to ask him?” she inquired. Gil looked at the turian. Ask him? Ask him what?

“So” Vetra began in a business-like tone, the points of her fingers coming up and touching each other. “Now that the Pathfinder is here, he needs a ship.”

Ah, so that’s why she was here. He’d been in charge of preparing the shuttles, three times now, but the state of their fleet – such as it was – was questionable, at best.

“Makes sense” he nodded. “I’m not sure what’s available but -“

“You don’t need to worry about that” she cut in. “Unfortunately the Pathfinder vessels were destroyed when we first hit the Scourge. All except one,” she added pointedly and raised a single finger. “the Tempest.”  
                He’d had no idea that they’d ever even _had_ Pathfinder vessels on board, so it was all news to him, but Vetra went on:

“She’s a great ship, purpose-built for the Pathfinder team. Survey-scouter type, stealthy, fast, and with a huge drive core. Covers 13 light years per day in FTL.”  
                Gil whistled in appreciation. That definitely sounded like an awesome ship.

“She now requires two things” she said and added a second finger to the first. Dramatic, but he appreciated the buildup. “Maintenance, and a working crew. I’ll be joining as something of a… requisitions officer and I was thinking that since we need an _engineer_ …”

She nodded towards him and it finally clicked. His eyes went wide with surprise as he fully realized what she was getting at.

“What, me?!” he said, flabbergasted.

“If you want. I think you’d enjoy working on it” she shrugged, playing it casual.

Kesh chuckled.  
                “She’s playing it cool now, but she practically demanded I let you join the crew earlier.”

Gil huffed with a smile and looked at her.

“And… you’re cool with it Kesh?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course”, the Krogan replied. “Not that you haven’t been a big help around here, but since we can now keep the lights on in the Nexus for quite a while longer, the next most important thing is assisting the Pathfinder in any way we can.”

Vetra nodded. “It’s your choice, of course.”

Gil made a fist and put his knuckles against his mouth, as he exhaled through his nose excitedly. His choice? A choice between being part of the Pathfinder’s team or just another of the Nexus engineers. One ‘choice’ meant participating in colonization efforts first-hand, as well working on an advanced ship with all kinds of unknown and custom-built components. The other, meant continuing to work on menial tasks around the Nexus. Not a very difficult ‘choice’ to make. He turned to Vetra with a sly smile on his face.

“When are we leaving?”

She smiled wider and motioned her head towards the exit.  
                “Right now. The Pathfinder is taking care of some business around the Nexus which will take him a while, but we’ll be off soon. The ship is quite big, but she needs to be ready in twelve hours tops. You think you’re up for the challenge?”

He put on his game face on, the tiniest smile and an expression that meant business, then clapped his hands together, palms rubbing against each other.

“You bet your turian ass I am.”

“Turians don’t have asses, but we’ll find something to bet, I’m sure” she winked at him, then turned to Kesh. “We’ll be off, is there anything else?”

“Nope, you guys go ahead. And make this damn thing happen please, we can’t take any more crushed hopes around here.”

Vetra nodded confidently.  
                “Leave it to us. We’ll see you around Kesh” she said and began walking towards the exit. “Gil?”

“Gimme a moment, I’ll meet you at the transport terminal in three minutes.”

“Are you going to have a tearful goodbye?” she mocked him with a raised eyebrow.

“Piss off…” Gil replied half-jokingly, half-dismissively.

“Don’t take too long” she called back and left, the sliding doors swinging shut behind her.

Gil turned to look at Kesh and she stared back at him, arms folded and eyes narrowed.

“You’re not actually thinking of having a tearful goodbye are you? Because I gotta warn you, on Tuchanka greetings and farewells always involve headbutts.”

He quickly raised his hands in defense.  
                “No, no, no! No farewells and definitely no headbutts. Just, umm…” he wasn’t sure how to put it. “Just, thanks. I guess.”

“Pffft,” she huffed “For what? Working you to the bone every day since you hacked your way into my office?”

“Well, you also kept me out of Cryo after the mutiny and stuff...”

“I kind of needed one more semi-skilled engineer to help me get shit done around here…”

He bypassed the bait that the ‘semi-skilled’ comment clearly was. “And you also let me transfer over to the Pathfinder team.”

“Hmmm, I know right?” she said and stroked her chin in a mocking gesture of fake contemplation. “It’s almost like our survival depends entirely on the Pathfinder’s success. Who would’ve thought.”

Gil gave her an exasperated look.  
                “You’re making it quite hard for me to show you a bit of gratitude, Nakmor Kesh.”

“I don’t want gratitude, or your human mushiness around here” she replied, but there was no bite in her voice. She was just a big softie and trying to hide it. “Just help them get this done.”

Gil nodded.  
                “Fair enough. Got any advice for me, o’ wise Krogan taskmaster?”

“That’s better” she grinned. “And nope, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Take care of the ship, and take care of the Pathfinder. He’s a little young but his heart seems to be in the right place.”

He didn’t comment on that, even though the statement seemed a little odd. He remembered seeing the Pathfinder on the vids before they left for Andromeda. He wasn’t **that** old, but you definitely couldn’t call him young. Late-fourties-to-early-fifties, if he had to guess. Then again to a Krogan who’d lived about four hundred years already and had at least another six hundred to go, fifty was probably ‘young’.

“Right, I’m off then. Got a ship to prep and I plan to get it done in less than ten hours.”

“Ha, aren’t we a confident little pyjak?” she teased.

“You know I’m good enough,” Gil shot back raising an eyebrow and jerking his head sideways in a quick motion. “That ‘semi-skilled’ thing was bull–”  
                His mild profanity was interrupted by the doors to her office sliding open. Gil turned, half expecting to see Vetra coming back in to chew him out.

What he saw was something different.

A man walked through the door, with slow, confident, purposeful strides. He was tall, slightly taller than Gil and lean, but the way he walked and his posture implied powerful limbs, and trained strength.

“Pathfinder, you’re here, good.” Kesh said comfortably.

“Hi Kesh” the man waved. “Am I interrupting?” he added as he came closer and quickly glanced from Gil to her.

Gil’s ears heard the exchange, but his mind couldn’t register the words. He was too preoccupied with taking in the man’s face:  
                Cream-coloured skin with the slight hint of a tan; straight brown hair neatly combed backwards; a perfectly-sized nose with the tiniest bump on the bridge; full pink lips, the bottom one  just slightly larger than the upper; a strong, linear jawline with a marginally rounded chin and a light dusting of facial hair.

All in all, one of the hottest guys he’d ever seen.

“No, not at all. This is Gil Brodie” Kesh said and pointed to him. “Gil, this is Pathfinder Ryder.”

“Hi…” said the man, finally turning to look at him fully and offering his hand. Their eyes met and Gil’s breath hitched. He took the hand and shook it lightly, again, and then again.  
                “Hi…” he managed to say, and he was very proud that the word didn’t come out as a croak, because his mouth felt as dry as Kesh’s descriptions of Tuchanka right about now.

Blue…

Blue, was all he could see and all he could think. A beautiful blue, bright, but deep, catching and reflecting the light in the office around them, circled around two small, black discs. Like zircon and blue topaz and aquamarine all fused into two objects and placed around two small beads of onyx. Only that’s not what they were. They were eyes, human eyes. Beautiful, and mesmerizing, and hypnotic eyes…

His other hand was in his pocket, which also happened to contain a single poker chip in it. He instinctively started rolling Blue between his fingers.

_Lucky Blue…_

“So is this long, drawn-out handshake thing a human custom?” came Kesh’s voice, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his trance. He awkwardly lowered his hand at the same time as Ryder and looked away, realizing that the handshake had gone on a bit too long.

“I uh…” he stammered.

“No it’s… ahem”, Ryder cleared his throat at the same time. He looked away for a brief moment then turned towards Gil again. “Good to meet you, Gil.”

“You too,” Gil said and nodded awkwardly as he met his eyes again, brief and friendly. He took a quick breath and put on a composed expression, as his mind snapped back and finally took in the earlier words, racing to make sense of it all. _Pathfinder Ryder?_ Kesh called him _Pathfinder_ hadn’t she? This was the goddamn _Pathfinder?_

Kesh’s eyes darted from one man to the other, before she spoke up again:

“Pathfinder, Gil here is going to be the Engineer on your ship.”

Ryder nodded. “Good to hear, I look forward to working with you” he said casually. The words were simple and polite, but the tone was a little **too** casual; in the sense that if they’d been playing poker Gil would be probably be filing this one under ‘tells’.

“Same here” he replied with a small, just-friendly-enough smile, that expertly masked the state of flux his brain was in. “I’d have sworn you looked slightly older when I saw you on the vids.”

At that, Ryder looked down pursing his lips together, then immediately back up. The movement had taken less than a second, but Gil immediately knew he’d fucked something up, before the man even spoke.

“That… was actually my dad. Unfortunately he didn’t make it, but I’ll do my best to fill in his boots” he said, with a bravado that seemed partly sourced from inner-strength and partly a façade.

_Fuck._

Gil would’ve closed his eyes, bitten off his tongue, sighed, facepalmed, and stayed hidden in his hands forever if he could. He wished someone had installed a trap door in front of Kesh’s desk, like those villains in the spy movies of old – although whether the Krogan would’ve picked up on his incredible faux pas and given him the courtesy of a swift exit, he couldn’t say. Nonetheless he had never wanted the earth, or the Nexus, or **_something_** , to swallow him whole as much as he did right now.

“I’m **really** sorry…” he began, wanting to say _something_ even though there was no covering the blunder. “I had no idea…”

“It’s ok” Ryder replied waving a hand with a kind smile on his face, “no point dwelling on that now, with such a long road ahead of us.”

Gil had just noticed – making him feel like a superficial shit and adding to his shame – that Ryder’s voice was also incredibly pleasant. And also that he’d tried to sound reassuring and nonplussed. But if there was one person who could hear pain hidden behind brave words and a steady voice, it was definitely Gil. And it made him feel even shittier.

Why couldn’t he have kept his stupid mouth shut?

“Speaking of the long road ahead, I really need to go” he gestured towards the door. “Got to prepare the ship and all that.”  
                _And maybe hide in its deepest recess while I’m at it and never come out again,_ he added in his mind.

“Gil’s one of the best at what he does, Pathfinder.” Kesh said.

Ryder made a gesture with both hands and gave an acquiescing nod. “Great. I leave her in your capable hands then and will see you in twelve hours.”

 _How about we make it sixty or seventy years instead? Then I’ll be senile enough to forget this entire conversation_ he thought, but just nodded.  
                “See you in a bit. Later Kesh” he said and stalked off.

“I’ll see you around” Kesh replied.

As he crossed the door and left her office, his walk shifted to a light jog to catch up to Vetra and expend some of the nervous energy that had built up in his legs. She was waiting in the inner chamber of the transport terminal, arms folded and leaning against a wall.

“That took a while” she said, sounding intrigued.

“Yea… sorry. I actually met our Pathfinder. He walked in shortly after you left.”

“Oh, ok. What’s he like?”

Gil rubbed his eyes wearily with a frustrated expression. “He was alright. You’ll meet him soon so let’s… talk about something else.”

Vetra narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but thankfully didn’t press the subject. “Like what?”

“Um… tell me a little more about the ship” he replied, trying to get her to talk about something, anything other than that disaster of a first meeting he’d had with Ryder.

“Well, it barely made it past Tann’s ideas on ‘efficiency’ and ‘utilizing resources’, and all thanks to yours truly” she mused, then began explaining in detail as they took the tram to the hangar where the Tempest was stored. Her story was interesting no doubt, but Gil’s mind was elsewhere.

The Pathfinder had been interesting, but that _interesting_ also made things a little… weird. The man was definitely attractive, there was no denying that. Hell, the word attractive was probably inadequate to describe him. But there was also something… else, that he couldn’t quite explain. Something he saw when their gazes met. Those eyes, those damn gorgeous eyes, seemed… familiar, almost.

He scoffed inwardly. What a stupid notion.

He decided he’d be honest with himself and recognize this for what it was, physical attraction. Besides, Ryder would technically be his commanding officer, had just lost his father, and showed no indication as to whether he swung that way. Even if he did, there was nothing to say that he’d find Gil attractive as well. Most importantly, he was _the Pathfinder_. He would probably be the single busiest man in the entire Andromeda Initiative, and the one guy on whom the entire future of this damn thing depended. No, Gil could appreciate the attractiveness but he’d squash this dangerous train of thought right here.  
He found himself wishing that Jill was there. She'd tell him to sort his shit out and get his head straight. But hey, he’d already managed to fuck up even a casual friendly conversation, so he had a head start towards being seen as a tactless idiot.

He sighed and shook his head, finally managing to focus on what Vetra was saying. He picked up hints of what awaited him as well as what kind of tinkering he would get to do, so he spent the rest of the way to the hangar listening, and thinking.

Thinking how much he was looking forward to working on the ship, which sounded more and more amazing the more she described it.

Thinking how great it’d be to be there when the first discoveries would be made.

Thinking how glad he was to get to see what this new galaxy had in store.

Thinking how excited he was to work with the Pathfinder…

…

…

…

…and the rest of the crew, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1:  
> Happy New Year folks!  
> Apologies we were a couple days late again, but the Christmas holidays and New Years are quite a busy period. As always, any feedback is more than welcome. If you spot any continuity errors especially I'd really like to know, cos' that's very important to me.
> 
> Note 2:  
> As I'm sure you've noticed, we have a slight deviation from canon in this chapter. First reason is that I wanted to describe a bit more of Gil's time on the Nexus and I also wanted Gil and Scott's first(?) meeting to be a little more significant than seeing him carry crates into the Tempest. There won't be any full-on divergence (at least nothing planned right now), but like I said before I might change little things here and there which don't matter to the overall development of the story, or the relationship. Maybe even bigger ones if I feel they were handled inadequately. Who knows.
> 
> Note 3:  
> As I mentioned in the opening notes there were spoilers from the Nexus Uprising book here. It's a very interesting read and I'd suggest you go read it, but I don't think any of these spoilers will ruin the experience. That being said, keep in mind that we will go into more elaborate details from the books later on. Imo there are no major plot twists in there, but you've been warned.
> 
> Note 4:  
> I really liked Kesh in the game, and the book gives her a lot more interesting details and motivations, so she's a (small) part of this now. This will also help me put into place some ideas about Drack later on, but that's all I'll say for now.


	8. Tempestuous beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil gets down to the business of preparing the ship for the Pathfinder team, meets his new crewmates, and gets some mixed messages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a section of the Tempest that will be mentioned here and that normally didn't have the stuff described in the fic. You will realize what "equipment" wasn't normally in there when you read through it, but for now I'll just mention that the room actually exists, it's just used as a commectiong  
> hallway in the game. It's basically the section between the medbay and the cargo bay. Screenshot below:
> 
> https://imgur.com/a/HAoPR

“Are you done?” came the question, again.

Gil rolled his eyes at the sound of the Salarian’s irritating voice from the hallway outside. He was ducked under a panel and could barely just see the lower part of Kallo’s legs, under the knees. He briefly wondered whether he could get away with kicking him in the shins. Probably not. Instead he pretended not to hear for a moment. Petty as it was, that was all he could do right now. It was either that, or outright tell the pilot to fuck off.  
                Here he was, trying to make millimetre-length adjustments to incredibly delicate systems and he had this guy to deal with, checking up on him every two hours and questioning why he did this and how he did that.

“Gil, can you hear me?”

_If only I couldn’t._

“I can. Last few tweaks to the climate sensors and radiation shielding, and I’m done” he replied flatly. Like in poker, it was better to keep his cards close to his chest.

“That’s not necessary. Both these systems are functioning flawlessly with a zero percent error margin right now. You’d have seen that if you bothered to check the readings before you began making ‘tweaks’.”

Gil shook his head. Seems like he’d have to explain everything he did, otherwise he wasn’t gonna leave.

“Yes Kallo, the sensors work flawlessly” he replied, trying to not let his annoyance come through his voice and mostly succeeding. “They work flawlessly within the irradiated walls of the hangar where it’s been sitting for more than a year. Which, if you haven’t noticed was hit by the Scourge quite badly.”

“So?”

“So, the other Pathfinder ships were destroyed. The ‘climate’ in here doesn’t really match the conditions of outer space. Out there, we have subzero temperatures and a lack of concentrated radiation. It is widespread, and it hits us from everywhere.”

The salarian audibly huffed out a scornful breath. But Gil was right and he knew it, so he pretended that he hadn’t heard that and went on:

“That’s why we wore radiation suits when we entered the hangar. Now can you kindly piss off and let me do my job?”

“The difference would’ve been almost negligible” the Salarian replied, but before he could expand further the speakers crackled to life:

“Kallo, could you come to the bridge please, I need to go over some things with you” came Suvi’s smooth voice.

“On my way Suvi” said Kallo and Gil saw his feet shift, as he started moving away.

Finally, a little peace and quiet. He tapped his Omnitool and opened a direct line to Suvi.

“I totally owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it” she said in her lovely Glaswegian accent.

Gil smiled, then ran a few calculations on his Omnitool, and adjusted the sensors by an 0.44% margin. There.

All done, and in just under nine hours. He’d have done it even faster if it wasn’t for Kallo’s constant meddling. But there was no helping it.

Kallo Jath was going to be the Tempest’s pilot, and Gil could already tell that the two of them were not going to get along, at all. He’d never had any issues with Salarians in general, and when Kesh used to grumble about Tann (and what a shithead of a Salarian he was) he’d always put it down to old Krogan-Salarian tensions – what with the Genophage and all. But Kallo had that classic, annoying ‘I know better’ attitude that many Salarians did, and having been part of the ship’s construction and its early prototype made it a hundred times worse.

When they first met he’d seemed fine. He’d transferred over the Tempest’s schematics to Gil and even offered to walk him through it all and show him what was likely to need attention. Gil had politely declined, since he preferred to poke at things and figure out the optimal way to check and run them as he went along. Some annoyance had flashed over Kallo’s features at that. He pointed out that everything had been calculated to within a hair’s breadth and that Gil could just perform some sanity checks. At that point, eager to be left alone to get his hands on the ship Gil had let his impatience get the better of him and told the Salarian – a little harshly – that well, he wasn’t just going to take his bloody word for it.

In the end, it was a good thing that he hadn’t. Many of the systems had been ok – with lots of room for fine-tuning of course – but some weren’t, and Gil had to fix all of them, while Kallo was constantly ‘passing by’, checking what Gil was doing and commenting with strongly worded _suggestions_.

There had been a major problem hidden in there too, in the form of a septic tank malfunction. The tank wasn’t too massive, just under half Gil’s height and about three feet wide, since the ship was geared to eject all that unpleasantness quickly, but the main pump did not operate as expected. He’d needed to lower himself **into** the tank to see that the pump’s tungsten pipes near the surface of the hull had been warped and twisted by heat, probably from the Scourge. It had taken about an hour just to replace those pipes. But he sorted it out in the end, all the while thanking his lucky stars that the ship was brand new and the septic tank hadn’t been put to use yet. He’d resisted the urge to rub the malfunction in Kallo’s face cos’ it’d be childish, but it had been a strong urge nonetheless.

Suvi on the other hand was a lovely girl, and they’d hit it off straight away after Vetra had made the introductions. She’d been part of the science team aboard the Nexus, and would be the science officer on the Tempest, taking note of readings and recording data they’d encounter on the way. She’d mentioned that she’d be doing it with the help of the Pathfinder’s AI – which made his stomach lurch a little as he recalled that little detail, and he’d filed it away to think about later.  
                Gil had crossed paths with her on the Nexus on the way to fixing some thing or another, but they’d never spoken before. But when they met on the Tempest they’d chatted pleasantly as Gil walked around the ship for a while. He’d been impressed by how knowledgeable she seemed to be about things around the Nexus, some of which he’d only heard from Kesh. Later on, when he’d been up to his elbows in the ship prep she’d gotten him a cup of tea. It was green tea and tasted kind of disgusting. It had a strong almost ‘grassy’ flavour and was sweetened with what he assumed was Stevia, but the gesture was sweet and he’d needed a five-minute break anyway. She’d sat with him and the five minutes turned into fifteen, as they exchanged stories about their days on the Nexus. Then she’d left him so he could get back to work, after letting him know that the flight systems he’d tweaked earlier looked very efficient in the diagnostics. To which Gil had smiled cheekily and mentioned that he was _nothing if not efficient_.

And now he’d just proven that by getting the huge ship ready singlehandedly in less than the already strict _twelve-hour_ mark. After that last final tweak to the sensors and shielding, all that was left was to stock the ship with a few more supplies. That’d take less than thirty minutes, with two and a half hours left to spare. He got out from under the panel then put the metallic cover plate back in its place. It magnetized in place with a satisfying _clink_. He wiped his forehead, picked up his tools and looked around, finally able to take it all in.

All in all, Vetra had been right. The ship was an absolute wonder. Every single facility was state of the art, from the bridge where Kallo would be piloting with Suvi next to him, all the way back to Engineering with the huge drive core, which would be his lair. The drive core was based on the ODSY model, which was a series notorious for their power, as well as the stupid amount of noise they made. He’d have to put up with a lot of annoying buzz, but that wasn’t the end of the world when everything else was just magnificent. The way it discharged static, the vast storage areas, the glass walkway that connected the parts of the ship, the Pathfinder’s quarters, the kitchen, the med-bay, the bio lab… Everything was just gorgeous. The ship also held a lot of supplies already and some boxes that Gil wasn’t sure they were cleared to carry – but he wasn’t gonna question it, that was Vetra’s job. There was even a small section opposite the Pathfinder’s quarters with a glass area that looked into the vehicle bay, which had a punching bag and some workout equipment in it. It was lean, but functional, and although Gil was never one for punching or fighting, he knew the rest of the crew might appreciate it. Or at least the Pathfinder would.

He recalled the man’s posture, the way he walked and the way he stood when they’d met. Confident and trained, relaxed and vigilant. Yea, he definitely seemed the type to train regularly.

He caught himself staring towards the Pathfinder’s cabin. The door was open, just like every other door on the ship at the moment, and he walked a little closer. This was where the Pathfinder would be staying. The double bed looked big and comfortable, but the room was clearly unused. There was a desk with a computer on it and stationary supplies, as well as the module that would host the AI’s core QEC relay.

His stomach had made another little jump at the sight of that, because if he was honest, he was mostly clueless as to what that AI actually was and how it worked. Since he’d needed to set it up and configure it, he knew that the QEC module on the desk would allow it to communicate with its mainframe which was back on the Hyperion and… that was about all he knew. As ‘trainees’ of the Initiative they’d all gotten a brief on the usefulness of AI _integration_ , but it had been vague with little details and a little too… propagandized. It had been written in a way that tried to sway the reader’s view based on niceties and imaginary ‘what ifs’, while offering no real concrete facts about how it would work or ‘integrate’ itself exactly. Jill had been wary of this part of the Initiative, and so had he.  
                Apparently the Pathfinder teams had a much better understanding of the details since the AI was made to support them, which meant he’d probably get to know more at some point. But it did make him just slightly concerned, being in the dark as to how something as powerful as a sentient supercomputer would interact with a human crew.

How would it behave? How and what could it affect? Would it interfere with the ship’s functions? Could it take over the piloting systems?  
                He smiled a cheeky smile at that last one. He didn’t know if it was capable of that kind of thing, but if it even tried it better be able to defend itself from Kallo’s fury.

At the end of the day whatever it was there was no point dwelling on it too much. He’d soon find out what it could do and, at least on paper, it was on their side.

He turned from the Pathfinder’s cabin and took another look around at the rest of the ship. He couldn’t wait to get down to the nitty gritty details and poke and prod at it until he discovered every nook and cranny, and squeezed out every bit of power and he could to make this thing as efficient as possible.

As protocol demanded, he had to communicate with the pilot and let him know the ship was ready. He turned on his comms and heard the light crackle in his ear before speaking up:

“Gil to bridge, come in.”

“Kallo here from Tempest bridge. Go on.”

“All checks and adjustments are done. The Tempest should be ready for take-off.”

“Good” said the Salarian, “Let’s try out the engine thrusters.” 

Before Gil had time to react the ship came to life with a whirring noise then lurched suddenly, causing him to stumble and fall backwards.

“Ow, dammit!” he cursed.

“Apologies” Kallo said. He sounded more amused than apologetic and Gil pursed his lips in annoyance but decided to let it go. It was good to hear the ship firing up and the engine charging.

“It’s fine” he replied. “Suvi, how are the initial readings?”

“Engine thrusters are primed to operate at full capacity.”

“Good to hear.”

“Indeed” Kallo said. “Gil, the trip to the docking bay will take less than five minutes, but I imagine you’ll want to monitor engine performance and maneuverability controls?”

“Of course!” he replied. He wouldn’t be much of an engineer if he didn’t track the ship’s first flight attempt, however short.

“Good, then let me know once you’ve returned to engineering and we’ll take off.”

“On my way now.”

He got up, and gave his the buttock he'd fallen on a quick rub. Thankfully it didn’t hurt much. He crossed the hallway with the exercise equipment and went into the cargo bay. Then he climbed the stepladder and crossed the walkway to reach the room where he’d be stationed. Engineering. He dropped off his tools in the corner and approached the console in front of the huge drive core, eager to run through the diagnostics output.

Temperature steady, engine thruster operation at sixty percent and rising.

“I’m all set” he said over the comms.

“Roger that,” Kallo replied. “Prepare for takeoff.”

Gil always found this moment incredibly exhilerating. Working on a ship was all well and good, but the first flight attempt was the ‘make or break’ moment. You could do all the work in the world trying to make sure that everything was ready; running formulas, calculations for trajectory, fuel consumption, environmental hazards, engine efficiency and so on, but until the ship was flying it was all just statistics on a screen. The real moment of triumph was when the ship took off into the air, and you could visibly see that all your work had been on point. After which you could hopefully relax, and get some rest – if you were working on a shuttle.

Of course, this was nowhere near as simple as a shuttle. On a ship as big and complex as the Tempest there were a ton of things that could go wrong. From critical systems and functions - such as making sure that artificial gravity and impact shields worked - all the way down to the smaller stuff - such as making sure that the failsafe for the oven worked, so no one would accidentally set the ship on fire; it was all Gil’s responsibility. He’d have to monitor every little detail for at least twenty-four hours after they left the Nexus.  
                But as always, Gil wouldn’t have it any other way. He was good at this stuff, and took pride in his skills. Being able to do it as part of the Pathfinder’s team was just icing on the cake.

His Omnitool pinged with a message from Kallo, addressed to him, Vetra, Suvi and someone named ‘Cora’.

_Ship is ready, engine warming up. Leaving for the docking station within the next 2 minutes. ETA, 5 minutes. Ready for supplies and the rest of the Pathfinder crew._

_The rest of the crew._ Huh. It made sense of course that there would be more to their crew than the four of them and the Pathfinder, but it hadn’t clicked until that moment. A reply from Vetra came back a few seconds later:

_Roger that. I have a few more supplies marked out for transfer, waiting at the docking station. But maybe bring her in quietly, we don’t want to turn too many heads if we can avoid it. See you in 5._

Gil wondered what she meant. The news of the Pathfinder’s arrival would be spreading like wildfire throughout the Nexus. He’d be surprised if everyone who was awake didn’t know already. Before he could ponder it further his omnitool pinged again with a private message from Vetra:

_“Just nine hours, you’ve outdone yourself mister!”_

_“What can I say? I’m bloody good ;)_ ” Gil sent back, smiling to himself as he imagined Vetra roll her eyes at his reply.

 _“So humble”_ she sent back sarcastically. _“I’ve also got the mod tools and spare parts you asked for. One box is marked “spare parts” and the other ”engineering tools” – very original, I know.”_

Gil huffed an amused breath.

_“Brilliant, see you soon.”_

He minimized the messaging application then brought up the ship’s overall status report. Something had been bugging him for this last minute or two and he’d just realized what it was.

The hum of the drive core had become more pronounced, but it was still way too quiet for an ODSY drive. So much so that Gil had to double check his calibrations to make sure he hadn’t fucked something up. Sure, these drive cores were a rarity, but he had worked with two of them in the past and knew what they sounded like. They’d been smaller than this and both of them made such an infernal amount of noise that you'd have thought they'd been powering up a Dreadnought, so this didn’t make much sense.

He thought of asking Kallo, but decided he might as well just look at the schematics and avoid the smugness that the Salarian would throw his way if he _had_ fucked something up.

He brought them up and tapped on the back of the ship, then on the drive core. He brought up the specs, and scrolled down to the construction materials:

 _Green Glue Compound and Sealant, Resilient Channels, ADST (Acoustic Deadening Sound Tiles) for the ceiling and walls, anti-vibration pads, perforated metal, liquid dampener spray…_ the list went on and on and on.

Holy shit this was incredible. They’d used every sound dampening material in the Milky Way to construct this room and the drive core’s housing. He looked back up at the drive core, slightly awed. The sound of it working at nearly full capacity was nothing but a light hum, almost pleasant in its consistency.

He stopped gawking and returned to his task of monitoring the readings.

The ship moved – smoothly this time – and left the ground, slowly hovering through the air. Gil could hear the loud mechanical whirring which meant the hangar doors were sliding open at the end of the long runway. As the hangar pressurized and they were exposed to the vacuum of space, he only had eyes for the console. Wings – stable, pressure – stable, hull – intact, bridge – secure. He turned on the camera feed from the outside and was surprised to find the ship had actually begun gliding forward, silently and smoothly through the air, as it picked up speed. He cycled through the critical flight systems as he wanted to make a few tweaks to power output, but it seemed Kallo had already taken care of that, reducing thruster power so they’d approach quickly but not too noisily.

He peered back down at the console, then cycled through the critical systems again. Obviously this wasn’t a real ‘stress test’ since they weren’t picking up any substantial speed, but for the moment everything was holding together beautifully.

Content that he could spare the next few seconds, Gil took a nice long look at the camera feed of the outside view. He gave a slight appreciative grin as he peeked at the outside camera feed and noticed that the pilot was making a few circles around the transfer station. Obviously he was as eager and cautious as Gil to get the ship in the air and to see if everything was working as it should.  

Gil looked at the millions upon millions of stars all around, bright and inviting and magnificent. He looked and wondered which one of these they might be able to make into a home for the Milky Way races, his spirits lifting with each passing second and his mind finally filled with something strange and comforting at the same time:

Hope for the future.

He chuckled. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

***

They arrived quickly, and with no hiccups whatsoever, so their short test flight was a resounding success. As they set down on the landing pad, Gil heard the thrusters power down and typed in a few commands into the console. The screen showed a large circle with a percentage number on it, starting from zero and _slowly_ ticking upwards, as it began compiling the post-flight report.

Good. The _report completed_ notification would come to his Omnitool, so he could leave engineering for now and help with the supplies. Plus if he was being honest, he really wanted to see what the docking bay looked like up close, now that they had power to use.

He began lowering the ramp from the vehicle bay and walked down, then raised a hand and waved to Vetra who was waiting at the bottom.

“Hey, so what are we bringing up?”

“Hey yourself. We’re bringing this stuff” she said and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. He moved his head to the side to see – she was quite tall – and saw a stack of small and large boxes, about fifteen or so, five people standing around them. Vetra continued up the ramp, checking to see where they had space to put the stuff and Gil went the opposite way, taking a good look around as he got off the ramp.

He almost couldn’t believe how much more vivid everything looked now that the lights were on in the Nexus and the whole place was properly illuminated. It had also been cleared out, so it looked more like a docking station and less like a dumping ground where no ship would ever dock. Just as he’d imagined a ton of people had heard about the Pathfinder and the ship, so there was quite a crowd spread out around the area. Some of them were staring and some were pretending to be busy. It was like everything had finally come to life, after being dead for so long, peoples’ hopes and excitement included. It was really nice to see.

He moved forward and nodded to the people around the boxes in greeting. The boxes had tags on them stating what each contained. Rations, sheets, clothing and uniforms, consumables…. engineering tools, there!

He grabbed the tool box and hauled it up, walking back up the ramp of the Tempest, as Vetra walked down. He set it down on the lift at the back and went back for the _spare parts_ one, just as Vetra was grabbing another of the boxes and bringing it up. It was like they were tagging each other in and out of the ship.

“Let’s pick it up a bit people, we’re fourteen months late!” she called out to the others, who were clearly taking their sweet time taking the boxes up.  
                Gil couldn’t blame them. They were obviously curious about the Tempest and wanted stories about the Pathfinder’s ship to tell the others, so they were probably dragging their feet out of curiosity more than laziness. Vetra set her box down next to his first one and turned back towards the landing pad.

“Oh, the Pathfinder’s here,” she said and strode back down to introduce herself. At the same moment, Gil’s Omnitool pinged with a notification sound. Probably the post-flight report. He set down the spare parts next to the engineering tools, then checked to make sure the notification was what he thought.

_Post-flight report status: Compiled_

Good. He opened it and started looking through a little, then remembered he needed to press the button on the lift that would take him to the upper level. He did so, and as the slow lift reached the top he saw Vetra walking in again, Scott Ryder and a blonde woman with an unusual hairstyle following her.

“Everything is state-of-the-art” Vetra was saying. “Labs, sensors, exploration gear… Plus her crew of course, the best in their field.”

_Damn right._

Gil picked up the spare parts box and began walking along the balcony, to place it at the other end, opposite his room. As he walked he turned to look down, and saw Scott Ryder looking towards him. Ryder inclined his head in a polite greeting and Gil did the same.  
                Ok, so that at least meant that the Pathfinder hadn’t held his earlier blunder against him. That was good. Gil wasn’t really the type to filter himself and tiptoe around people, so the fact that Ryder was at least somewhat cool boded well for everyone. He put the box down, then began heading back to engineering.

He really needed to look over that report immediately. Vetra and the Pathfinder had taken the lift to the upper level and were moving towards the research center.

“The drive core is based on the ark’s ODSY drive” Vetra explained.

“But it runs a hell of a lot quieter” Gil chimed in as he passed by. “Hey, Pathfinder.”

“Hi Gil” Ryder said, with a polite smile.

“That was Gil Brodie, who I hear you’ve already met.”

“Yea our engineer, right?” Scott asked.

“Engineer, mechanic, and all-around wrench jockey” Vetra said, just loud enough so Gil could hear her, before the door slid shut behind him.

He huffed a small chuckle, and got back to his work. He began running over the data, ticking things off where he had enough info or putting them on a pending list to review again after they took off. The flight was small but it had produced so much data… Engine load minimal, static build-up just a miniscule fraction of a percentage, maneuverability steady and responsive… It all looked good on the surface but he’d have to dig a little deeper. This would be his last chance to make adjustments before they left. And Gil would make good use of it.

***

**_Ten hours later…_ **

“This is Pathfinder Ryder, testing out the comms. Anyone read me?” came Ryder’s voice.

“We read you Ryder” replied a female voice that Gil didn’t recognize. He thought it probably belonged to that blond girl with the sideways haircut.

“Ok, good. I thought we should all get together for a little. We left the Nexus in a hurry and I know everyone’s been quite busy since then, so we haven’t done any proper introductions yet. Plus, I imagine most of you haven’t had anything to eat, right.”

As if responding to the remark, Gil’s stomach rumbled loudly. He was starving. And thirsty. There had been a ton of stuff to do before they even took off. After they took off he’d become so absorbed in monitoring and tweaking and recording and reporting that he hadn’t even had time to think of food and drink. Or anything else for that matter. Adding to his annoyance, there were some systems that really give correct results, no matter how many times he’d run the calculations…

“I could eat” came another male voice, which again Gil didn’t recognize at all.

Was there someone else on board as well? A lightbulb went off in his head. Yes, that must be it! That would totally explain the mismatched results in organic weight, consumable air, etc. Who the hell cared about food, he had new variables to work with. He had to get back on it, now!

“Alright, let’s meet in the kitchen in thirty” Ryder said, and a chorus of _Yes_ and _Ok_ sounded back before the comms went silent again. Gil wasn’t sure how many voices he’d heard but it wasn’t more than seven or eight.

But what was was it? Seven, or eight? Could also have been fewer than that. Or more. maybe some people didn’t respond at all, like he hadn’t.

He actually did want to meet everyone, and had no way of knowing whether they had just one extra person on board or if it was two, or five even. It’d benefit him to find out who, and how many his crewmates were if he was going to be able to account for their needs and get accurate results back.

He took off his gauntlets that were dirty with smudges and wiped his slightly damp brow. It was somewhat warmer in this room than the rest of the ship, and intense concentration made him a little sweaty. He sniffed himself under the arms to make sure he didn’t stink. Deodorant smell. All good.

He had thirty minutes, so he could still run through a few of the console logs a couple more times, verifying the ship’s status, since he was going to leave things unattended. He scanned through them. All in all, their launch and initial flight had gone as smoothly as any of them could’ve wished for. Of course they were all in good hands with Gil, but things could always go wrong. As confident as he may be, there was always a chance something could go awry quickly when you prepared a ship for spaceflight in a brand new Galaxy. But nothing had. No Scourge, no malfunctions, no issues. Mostly smooth sailing and a LOT of monitoring.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, a lot of the smoothness also came down to Kallo’s skills as a pilot. Annoying and pesky though he may be, the Salarian definitely could fly, and truly knew how to use this ship expertly. He’d weaved through obstacles with ease, maneuvering and accelerating while barely taxing the systems much at all. He had even avoided an asteroid belt that their sensors had been too slow to pick up cos the rocks were mostly made of an unknown mineral – which Suvi had been very excited to encounter.

The Pathfinder had gotten them to start by doing some basic scouting of nearby solar systems for resources that the Nexus could put to use. Kallo would bring the ship in closer, and Suvi would run the sensors, then launch the probes whenever she detected an anomaly that showed something usable. Gil marked performance readings, calculated launch trajectories, and executed the code for signal transmission to the Nexus, so they could eventually come and collect whatever the Pathfinder team had found. When they’d found the first large Titanium deposit he attached a small message in the code:  
“Here’s a little something for you to chew on and calm down, when Tann gives you grief”

The initial recipient for all incoming signal transmissions was Kesh.

It took him a while to run through the last of the console logs for their scouting missions, but eventually he was done. He got up from the swivel chair to head for the Galley.

He massaged his lower back a little as he walked. It had gotten sore from sitting. He hated working while sat down, but he was getting seriously tired. He’d been up for ages, and now the rush of the initial excitement had begun to wear off, so he didn’t have anything to carry him along.

He slid down the stepladder and turned around to cross the doors from the Cargo Bay to the hallway with the exercise equipment, and almost ran into someone face-first.

“Wow mate!”

“Wow, sorry” Gil apologised and stepped back. The man was tall, lean (a little too lean), dark-skinned and with a full head of hair that he held backwards with a headband of some sort.

“I’m guessing you’re also headed out for food and introductions, right?” the guy asked.

“What’s it to you? Are you following me?” Gil said, expression deadly serious for a brief moment. The guy flinched and seemed little taken aback, until Gil cracked a smile and huffed a laugh. “I’m only joking, don’t worry, yes I am.”

“Ah, ok, good” the man replied, with a relieved smile spreading across his features. “You totally had me there for a second, I thought you were gonna punch me or something.”

“It’s a way to break the ice though, right?”

“Ha, definitely. Liam, nice to meet you.”

He offered his hand and Gil shook it.

“Good to meet you Liam, I’m Gil.”

“Cool. Man I’m starving” Liam intoned as they started walking.

“Tell me about it, I think I haven’t eaten in twenty hours or something”

“What do you do here?”

“Mostly crack wise, but officially I’m the engineer.”

Liam chuckled again as he entered the door to the Galley to a buzz of chatter and conversation, Gil following close behind.

“Hey, Liam!” Ryder said and pushed himself off of the countertop he was sitting on, then moved towards them, clasping hands with Liam sideways.

“What’s up Ryder? Haven’t seen you all day.”

“You know, Pathfinder stuff to deal with…”  
                He turned. “Hey, Gil” he said with a warm smile, looking him in the eyes.

“Hey Pathfinder.” Gil said comfortably, his usual confidence properly back with him.

“You can call me Scott you know” Ryder said, a challenging look on his face

“Or, you could just let me pretend I’ve got a shred of professionalism left” Gil joked, raising his eyebrows.

Ryder’s brilliant smile widened for a fraction of a second, the side of his mouth forming an adorable dimple and Gil’s treacherous heartbeat made a tiny skip. But Ryder’s expression – and smile – was gone as quickly as it appeared, diminished as if he’d pulled down a curtain. Odd.

He turned around to address everyone in the room:

“Guys, guys!” he said, raising his voice to get the chatter to die down, and Gil got a moment to look around the room. He saw only two faces he had no names for, the blond girl and an Asari. Unfortunately Kallo was also there. Gil expertly masked the grimace that he felt like making. “Now that everyone is here we can start with some introductions.” Ryder continued, followed by sighs and eyerolls from people around. “Now don’t get all formal on me okay? We’re gonna be working together closely and I’d like us to do it as a real team, not a damn army unit. And after that we’ll get some food.”

“What are we eating?” Liam jumped in.

“Suvi here,” Ryder said gesturing to their science officer, “has very kindly spent the last thirty minutes cooking some soup for us, since our food supplies haven’t been properly unpacked and catalogued yet.”

“Ooh, is it chicken soup?” Gil jumped in, his appetite properly kicking into gear now.

“No” Suvi said with pride, “it’s Soylent soup! And it’s from my own recipe. I used to cook it at least once a week back in the Milky Way.”

Gil had to employ every ounce of skill of over one-and-a-half-decades of poker mastery that he possessed to properly mask his dread and disappointment at that reply. He nodded his head appreciatively, pretending that he was looking forward to it while thinking that maybe he didn’t really need food after all...

“Thanks for taking the time Suvi, I’m sure it’ll be great” Ryder said and Gil looked at him sideways. It sounded very convincing, and he wasn’t sure whether the man was trying to be nice or whether he was just an innocent, clueless man, about to be taught a valuable life lesson. “So, I’ll start.”  
                “As all of you guys know by now, I’m Scott Ryder, and I’m the new human Pathfinder. The original Pathfinder was my dad, Alec Ryder, but he died on a mission on Habitat 7.”  
                The blonde lady was next to Ryder leaning against the counter, and she reached out a hand and patted him on the back very gently. He smiled with lips slightly pursed for a second in acknowledgement of her gesture. “I’m not my dad, but I will do my best to help the Initiative’s mission, and hopefully help chart and settle some planets. With your help. Oh, and I’m also a Biotic.”  
                Gil raised an eyebrow at that. How unexpected. Ryder turned to the girl next to him. “Cora?”

“Ugh, ok let’s do this… I’m Cora Harper, and I’m the Pathfinder’s second. I used to be an Asari Commando.”  
                Wow. While he didn’t know exact details Gil had heard of Asari Commandos. Elite forces of the Asari military, some of whom were among the first to be chosen as Spectres. He didn’t know humans could join that kind of task force, but it probably meant that Cora could definitely kick some serious ass….  
                “Not much else to say. I’m… also Biotic.” she said, and he immediately picked up on the slight hesitation at the mention of her being Biotic. He wasn’t sure exactly what, but there was definitely some kind of hang-up there. “Liam?”

“I swear this is like the world’s most bizarre support group” Liam began and people chuckled and looked at each other. “I’m Liam. Liam Kosta, Security and Crisis response specialist. Basically, I just shoot stuff. You’ll learn the rest as we go along. Gil?”

He hadn’t expected his turn to come up so soon, but Gil was nothing if not quick to react and adapt.

”Alright, I’m Gil Brodie. And if you call me by my last name we’re gonna have a bad time.” He said teasingly and looked around the room. “I’m the engineer, which means I’m responsible for maintaining **_and tweaking” –_** out of the corner of his eye he saw Kallo flinch – _“_ everything that’s mechanical around here. I’m also a pretty mean poker player, and each and every one of you is welcome to try their luck. It won’t help you, but there it is.”  
                Vetra laughed at his comment, and Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise, then narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Oh I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.” he said.

“Well, I look forward to enjoying your credits Liam” Gil replied with a cheeky grin. “Vetra?”

“Name is Vetra Nyx, and I’m in charge of logistics. I take care of procuring the supplies we need to stay alive. You need to get your hands on _anything_ , you come to me.”

Ryder tilted his head and narrowed his eyes little.

“Ok, did that sound fishy to anyone else?”

“Definitely dodgy” Liam agreed.

“What do you mean by **_anything,_** Vetra?” asked Suvi.

“Exactly what I said” the Turian replied and winked. “Lexi, go.”

“I’m Lexi T’Perro and I’ll be your doctor” said the Asari. “If you have any health problems, mental or physical, please come see me in the med bay. Suvi, was it?”

Suvi nodded. “I’m Suvi Anwar, and I’m the science officer on board the Tempest. I’ll be recording and taking samples of new fauna and flora species and conducting sensor scans and surveys for any unknown materials we come across. Beyond that, I’m not very exciting I’m afraid” she joked. “Kallo?”

“I think you’re plenty exciting Suvi” the pilot started and Suvi smiled at him. “I’m Kallo Jath and I’m the pilot, so I fly the Tempest. I was also part of its construction crew so I know this ship better than **_anyone_** ” he said pointedly, but didn’t look towards Gil.

“Wait,” Liam jumped in, “if you’re the pilot does that mean no one is at the helm right now?”

“I’ve set an autopilot module of course. We’re headed for the Eriksson system and should be there soon.”

“Ok, cool” Liam nodded then turned to Ryder. “Should we eat now? I think I’ll be dying of starvation soon.”

 _Or soylent soup,_ Gil thought.

“Hold on” Ryder said and raised a finger “We’ve still got one more member of the team who needs to introduce himself.”

Gil took a quick peek around. Everyone in the room had already introduced themselves.

“SAM?” said Ryder.

_Oh._

“Yes, Pathfinder.” Came a mechanical voice through their comms. “Greetings to all the Tempest crew. My name is SAM, and I’m an adaptive A.I. matrix in charge of analysis and field support for the ground team. I’m also responsible for monitoring and maintaining the Pathfinder’s physiological status at all times. I look forward to assisting all of you.”

“When you say _maintaining_ the Pathfinder’s physiology, how exactly do you mean?” Gil asked, immensely curious about this.

“SAM is kind of… fused with me” Ryder said. “Via an implant that I’ve had installed on my brain, which also serves as a Biotic control implant. He can interact with my biological functions.”

 _Interact with biological functions?_ That sounded incredibly risky, and also somewhat hard to comprehend. He knew Jill would’ve loved to be there right now, and she would know exactly what to ask.

“To what extent?” he asked. Ryder seemed to think about it for a moment before replying.

“Quite... an extensive one. Safety protocols have been overridden… We’re still figuring things out.”

A short silence descended on the room as people were trying to come to terms with the information.

"We'll need to discuss this in more detail at some point Ryder" Lexi spoke up. Made sense that she'd want to know more as the ship's doctor. Ryder nodded.

"Sure. Look, I've decided to be honest with you all and yea it sounds like a risk, but I know SAM is here to help."

“I will do my best to ensure that the Pathfinder is healthy and well.” replied the AI.

“To be fair SAM was a big help in the Habitat 7 mission” said Liam. “I don’t think we would’ve made it out without him.”

“I’m glad to have been of assistance” replied the AI.

"So, I hope you're all ok with this."

People nodded, some more warily than others, but all in all there seemed to be a consensus that they were going to trust the Pathfinder on this. Gil did the same as Ryder's gaze moved on to him as well.

“Alright" Scott said and nodded, "That's all I'll ask for now. With that out of the way... let’s have some food!"

Suvi shot up eagerly and headed towards a pot on the stove. Small conversations started here and there and the few people who had been standing (Liam, Cora and Gil) sat down around the table with the others. Gil didn’t join in the chatter, his eyes instead looking at Scott who had his back turned to the table and was helping Suvi serve portions of the soup, along with some bread and cheese to go with it.

_SAM can interact with my biological functions._

 An A.I. was a very efficient and sentient computer. Gil was far from an expert, but there was only one way he knew that it could interact with someone’s physiology. Every movement and physical response was an electrical impulse sent to nerves from the brain, so theoretically an A.I. could interface with one’s nervous system…  
And it could technically do whatever it wanted, right?

Could it take over the Pathfinder’s movement and speech? Could it kill him if it wanted to?

Then again, no one else seemed to be worried that this was a possibility so maybe he shouldn’t either.

His thoughts were interrupted as a bowl of fragrant green soup and a spoon was placed down in front of him.

“Everything ok?” said Ryder, his face showing a hint of concern. Gil gave a reassuring nod.

“All’s good Pathfinder, just thinking of all the work I have left. I  need to get back to it soon.”

“Seems to me like you’ve done great so far Gil. Everything is running like clockwork. I’m sure your work will still be waiting for you ten minutes from now.”

“True enough” Gil conceded.

“Enjoy” Ryder said as he put down two slices of brown bread and a few pieces of cheese on a smaller plate next to Gil’s bowl of soup.

Gil wanted to reply with _I doubt it,_ but Suvi was within hearing range _._ Plus even though he was quite wary (to say the least), the smell wasn't bad.

He waited til’ everyone had been served and Suvi and Ryder had also sat down, and gave the soup another whiff. It really did smell quite good... He took a timid spoonful.

It tasted the exact opposite. He had to stop, and began making a chewing motion. It was soup, so it wasn't necessary to chew but that was the only way he felt he could keep it down. He took another spoonful, hoping that maybe the second one wouldn't be as bad. If only... He didn’t have a foot fetish, but he imagined this was probably what feet tasted like.

His stomach did stop rumbling though, so he and Liam started chugging it down after a couple more spoonfuls, being famished and needing something to fill their stomach, but more importantly trying to avoid having to taste it for longer than strictly necessary. The two of them had definitely taken one for the team there. Suvi was thrilled to see them _love it_ so much, which had seemingly made her completely oblivious to the fact that most of the others were actively suffering.  
                Kallo was going slowly, and trying his absolute best to pretend he liked it and was savouring it. He had this expression of utter revulsion as he was eating, which became more pronounced whenever he was about to take another spoonful. And when Suvi turned to ask him if he liked it, he turned his scrunched up face into a twisted smile and raised his eyebrows, then nodded in an exaggerated motion.  
                Lexi pretended that she prefers to ‘ _eat while standing sometimes, because it’s easier to digest food that way_ ’ and chucked one spoonful in the sink every time Suvi would bend down to take a mouthful of soup.  
                Vetra had taken the coward’s way out, quietly trying the lightest spoonful then saying that sadly this isn’t compatible with her dextro-amino based diet. So she _unfortunately couldn’t eat this, even though it seemed absolutely delicious_.  
                Ryder, to his credit, was powering through it and had less than a third left by the time Gil looked over, but he’d also had to eat five slices of bread and four times as much cheese as Gil to even get there. Since the soup wasn’t very calorie-heavy, he and Cora had the excuse of _needing the extra calories because their energy expenditure with Biotics is **so** insanely high_.

“So what’s the plan Ryder?” asked Lexi, suffering the last spoonful of soup and putting her bowl in the sink.

Scott swallowed a mouthful of bread and cheese and washed it down with some water before replying:

“Well, Since I heard the ship hasn’t flown before, I was thinking we continue with a little scouting for the next 24 hours, then briefly return to the Nexus. After that, we head to Habitat 1, also known as Eos. There’s a lot of unfinished business there from the Initiative and we might be able to do something about it.”

Gil knew of what ‘unfinished business’ Ryder was referring to, and he wondered what the eight of them could possibly do about a high level of radiation throughout the planet’s surface. But he didn’t raise any objections. The others nodded, all seeming content with this plan.

He excused himself after eating, because he really had a lot of work to do. Also he was afraid he wasn’t gonna keep the food down if he remained sitting, and he refused to let his earlier suffering go to waste by leaving his stomach empty.

***

Gil was getting rather tired, but there was still some stuff to do. Filing data from the scans; registering the status of the probes; readjusting thruster output since space in Andromeda was apparently less dense than space in the Milky Way; inputting new variables into the autopilot guidance system for future consideration; adjusting life support and water allocations for eight people instead of seven, and on and on and on.

He’d put up the feed from the inside of the ship to occasionally give himself a break and had noticed something interesting. Every person had taken up a different section or room to hang out in. Some of them were related to the person’s specialty, i.e. he was obviously in engineering, Lexi was in the Med Bay and Vetra in the cargo bay, but it wasn’t always like that. Cora for example had set up shop in the Bio lab, and Liam was mostly in the Research station, although he seemed to have made a den out of the small storage area under engineering as well.

And what was even more interesting was that the Pathfinder had visited each person in their respective areas and stayed to talk with them individually. Gil didn’t mean to spy, and he’d already sent out a mail to everyone explaining that they can shut down the camera the feed for any room they are in – via a small switch on the threshold of the door – but no one seemed to have found it necessary to do so. Gil cut off the audio himself wherever there was a conversation happening, and then a few minutes later, Ryder would pop up in another place, then the next, then the next.

And then it was Gil’s turn.

The sliding doors hissed open but Gil barely heard them since he was very busy with an important equation – soon to become a formula – for increased fuel efficiency. Only when he heard a light tap, and a second hiss, did it register that someone had arrived. And was leaving. He turned his head around. “Hey Ryder, leaving so soon?” he said, then turned back to his work.

“Hey Gil, sorry. You seem very busy, so I thought I shouldn’t interrupt.”

“I am very busy, but luckily for you I can also multitask quite well. What brings you to my lair?”

“Nothing important. I brought you a glass of water, Vetra told me it gets warm in here.”

Gil turned around and saw a glass of water on the table next to Ryder, who was still standing near the door. Ryder’s timing was pretty good, he was feeling quite parched. He walked over and grabbed it, then gulped it down with a single breath. He got a little greedy with it and felt a cold wet line trickle from the side of his lips and down his throat; the cool sensation of the water tickling the skin as it travelled downwards and collided with the fabric of his uniform.

“Bahhhhh” he breathed out. “Thanks Ryder, I really needed that actually. Grab a seat.” He pointed to the swivel chair, then turned back to the console. “You don’t mind if I continue working in the meantime do you?”

“No of course not.” Ryder started, “But where will **you** sit?”

“I prefer working while standing, sitting for too long does my back in. Which is why I was standing when you came in.”

“Ok, thanks” replied the Pathfinder and Gil heard a light squeak from the chair, meaning Ryder had taken the seat.

“So, slumming it huh? Wanna see how the riffraff are getting on?”

“Hey, this is the most important part of the ship” Ryder said.

“Whoa, don’t tell me they put someone smart in charge for a change” Gil said and turned his head to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. He caught him right as the guy yawned, putting a hand up to cover his mouth, then leaning backwards on the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not sure about that, but we’ll see in due time”, joked the Pathfinder.

“I suppose we will.” Gil chuckled, then turned back to the console. “So, how can I help you?”

There was a three-to-four second gap of silence after Gil’s question and he had to strongly resist the urge to turn around and look.

“Just wanna see how things are going with the ship” Ryder replied. The tone had suddenly switched to a more business-like one at the drop of a hat and it made Gil’s urge to turn around stronger still. He resisted it, since too many sideways looks would be a bit weird, but damn did he hate not having facial expressions for context.

“I can coax more out of this baby than some might think, but we shouldn’t go too far or push too hard between Nexus stops, for now. Your plan to scout, head back and then off to Eos is a good one I reckon.”

“Good, good.”

“It just feels good to be stretching our wings you know? Locked in idle for too long and you start to drift.”

“Yea, I know what you mean” Ryder said.

There was another short silence after that, and Gil decided to use it to discuss what had been bugging him since dinner.

“Is it alright if I ask something about your… AI?”

“Fire away.”

“Isn’t it... weird? Having a voice in your head? Reading your mind, sharing your head space…”

“That’s… not exactly how it works. SAM is in my head sure, but he can’t read my mind, we need to speak to communicate. He can speak directly to my ear, so technically he doesn’t need to speak out loud, but I still have to if I want him to know something.”

“And how does it affect your body?”

“From what I understand he connects to my c.n.s., and can technically move muscle groups.”

Ryder didn’t seem worried as he said that, but Gil shifted uncomfortably. So he’d had the right idea. “But… if you’re saying it connects to your nervous system aren’t you worried that it might take over? Or… harm you?” he asked, trying to be diplomatic.

“No… not really” Ryder replied. “I don’t know precise details, but I know for a fact that SAM was designed for a symbiotic relationship, not a parasitic one.”

Intriguing.

“How do you mean?”

“Well me and SAM have only been connected like this for a day and a half, so If I’m perfectly honest I’m still figuring all this stuff out. But SAM did this with my father a lot longer, so he might be able to explain a little further… SAM?”

“With pleasure, Pathfinder” came the mechanical voice in Gil’s ear. “My creator – Scott’s father – made me adaptable, but even though I am sentient I am still synthetic. As a synthetic, I am limited in my capacity to comprehend the complex emotions of organic beings. When one can only observe as a third party they can only record, not truly understand.”

“And that changes when you’re interfacing with a human?”

“Indeed. Since I receive all of the sensory input that Scott receives and can detect physiological responses, I am much more readily equipped to understand emotions and the context around them. For the same reason, it is in my best interests to keep Scott safe, but interfere as little as possible with his daily life. If I were to interfere, the data I would receive from Scott would be effectively useless, since its source would be my interference, rather than a human mind and psyche.”

“Hmmm, interesting…” Gil said. “So Ryder is like your looking glass to the rest of the world. You’re seeing it through the eyes of organics, and you’d effectively be smudging the glass if you interfered.”

“Precisely. As for taking over Scott’s body, that’s not possible unless he is willing to allow me to take control of his motor functions. I do not have the capability of overriding Scott’s brain since his body  would be receiving conflicting signals, which would cause significant damage. As mentioned above, I have a vested interest in preventing this.”

“So what is it exactly that you were made for?”

“I was initially created for a different purpose, but my role now is to assist Scott in his endavors as Pathfinder. I can do this by taking care of the things that would take a human many years and significant brainpower to do. And since this is a voluntary request by Scott it only affects his efficiency in terms of output. It does not compromise the sensory input he receives and passes on to me. Thus, we both benefit. I get to learn more about this universe and Scott gets things done quicker.”

Gil pondered this for a moment. He wasn’t really one to get into deep philosophy or anything, but he did enjoy a good brainteaser, and this was definitely a big one. “I think I understand” he began, “but it seems almost… too simple. Basically you’re telling me that all the Geth needed was a mutually beneficial relationship with the Quarians. And they’d be jolly good, and none of their problems would’ve happened?”

“That is only partially true. The purpose of the creation of the Geth was very different to mine. Along with their hosting platforms, they were made as tools to make Quarian lives easier, without taking into account their eventual sentience and self-awareness. They were fundamentally separate from their creators from the beginning. The maker of a wrench does not concern themselves with the wishes of the wrench. However as proven by the Geth, synthetic life is more than just a tool, and needs a purpose of its own to thrive.”

“Fair point.” Gil admitted. “And if that purpose is mutual then you both benefit.”

“Correct” SAM confirmed. “I hope this helps alleviate some of your concerns about my operation.”

“Honestly, as long as you’re here to keep the Pathfinder safe, we’re good SAM.”

“I am glad to hear it Mr. Brodie” SAM replied.

Gil flinched at being called ‘Mr. Brodie’.

“Gil is fine, SAM.”

“Yes, Gil.”

He smiled at SAM’s cordial yet friendly manner, and also at the strangeness of this moment he was experiencing. It was almost surreal. If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be having a serious discussion with an AI in a different galaxy he’d have laughed in their face. But here he was, doing just that. Ok, technically six hundred years had passed, but he didn’t count being in a state of suspended animation as years of life.

“So I guess you and SAM together are like a superhero fusion huh Ryder?” he mused.

Sam’s voice answered him instead: “I’m sorry Gil, but it appears that the Pathfinder has fallen asleep.”

Gil stopped what he was doing at the console and turned around, incredulous at the AI’s words. Ryder’s body had shifted sideways and his head was leaning on the glass that separated engineering and the cargo bay, eyes closed. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes since Gil had begun talking with SAM. How had he even been comfortable there?

He stepped closer and walked over to the right, circling the sleeping man. As the rest of the Pathfinder’s face came into view Gil chortled, laughing through his nose and trying desperately to stifle the laughter or at least not make any noise. The left side of Ryder’s sleeping face was smushed against the glass window, making the man’s handsome features distort comically. His left cheek was folded forward and was pushing his lips out in an expression that made him look like he was imitating a fish. If he was feeling cruelly funny Gil would be taking a picture right now to jokingly ‘blackmail’ Ryder with later.  
                But despite his immense amusement he wasn’t feeling all that funny, and definitely not cruel. As he looked down on Ryder’s sleeping face he felt…

_Protective._

His amusement faded a little. What a stupid sentiment. The man was a trained biotic, and possibly the last person on the Tempest that needed protection of any kind. Thinking about it a little further Gil realised it might actually be a toss-up between him and Cora as to who needed less protection, but still.

Suddenly he remembered that SAM had addressed him, and realized that he hadn’t replied. He felt rude for leaving him hanging.

“He must be really exhausted if he fell asleep here” he said quietly.

“I can confirm he is. The Pathfinder hasn’t really had time to rest” came the mechanical voice. “He’s had to talk through a lot of things with the Initiative’s leaders and get up to speed very quickly. He also took the time to speak with a lot of other people around the Nexus, wanting to help wherever and however he could.”

The left side of Gil’s mouth twitched upwards. That sounded right. They barely knew each other but looking down at his smushed face Gil could tell that this was an honest man, one that was cut from a ‘good cloth’, so to speak. SAM went on:

“Moreover, he’s not had any time to process his father’s passing as he had to take up his mantle immediately.”

Gil felt his heart pinch at the words, and his memory rushed back to that first conversation he’d had with Scott. That and his stupid, stupid comment about thinking that Ryder had been older in the vids. _“_ _That… was actually my dad. Unfortunately he didn’t make it, but I’ll do my best to fill in his boots.”  
                _ He felt a fresh wave of awkwardness and sadness for Scott roll over him and took a deep breath trying to push it away. The awkwardness went away after a few seconds, but the shared sorrow for the man was still there. He’d never forget that momentary glimpse of pain behind the blue eyes. Gil never knew his real family so he hadn’t experienced that kind of loss himself, and could only imagine what it must be like to not even have time to process it and allow yourself to mourn.

He sighed.

Anyway, he couldn’t do anything about any of that, but he could at least let the man sleep his exhaustion off. And maybe make it a little less uncomfortable, since Scott would probably wake up very groggy and with neck pain without at least a bit of head support.

He picked up the jacket from the table next to him and folded it up. He leaned over the Pathfinder and gently lifted his head away from the glass, then slid the folded jacket in-between, and lowered the man’s head back down on it. Scott shifted slightly and Gil panicked for a second, thinking that he was gonna wake up with his head in Gil’s hand, but then immediately relaxed as he saw him settle into the makeshift pillow and resume his peaceful breathing, chest slowly rising and falling… rising and falling… rising and falling.

He slowly backed away, and frowned as he considered the momentary panic that came over him a moment ago. What was that about? It’s not like he’d been doing anything bad, on the contrary he was doing something nice. And it’s not like he did it because it was _Ryder_ specifically. He probably would’ve done the same for anyone else in the crew who’d been so exhausted as to fall asleep in engineering.

Ok, maybe not for Kallo… But anyone else, definitely.

“You appear to have become distracted from your work, Gil,” SAM’s voice broke through the silence, “so I can only assume this situation is causing you distress. Would you like me to wake the Pathfinder?”

“No, no!” Gil replied quickly, as he felt his cheeks heat up a little at the AI’s remark. “Let him sleep, I can work just fine.”  
                He wasn’t distracted... It was just an odd situation and he’d wanted to help, that was all. He took one last look at Ryder –  who now looked somewhat more comfortable – and turned back towards the console to continue with his work.

“Thank you, for your kind gesture” SAM said, and Gil felt his cheeks heat up even more. He had to admit, SAM’s perceptiveness was a little disarming, and even though the voice was quite mechanical, the tone definitely held some ‘color’. If he had to put a finger on it he’d call it gratitude. But could a machine feel grateful, or was that just an algorithm? Could a supercomputer also be a person? He was clearly displaying some understanding of human interaction, and even a hint of empathizing when he’d spoken about Scott and his father’s passing.

He wasn’t entirely sure if the AI used it knowingly, or just to get a reponse. But whatever the reason, Gil decided he appreciated SAM’s forthright demeanor. He also realized that he’d just referred to SAM as a “ **he** ” in his head just now, which probably meant something.

“It was no bother,” he said. “How long has he been up?”

“Roughly fourty-eight hours, during which he nearly died twice.”

Gil’s fingers stopped, and he felt his stomach clench for a brief second. Scott _nearly died **, twice**_? Were all the Andromeda habitats this dangerous? What the hell had happened on that mission? And he'd been up for two days? Fucking hell, Gil already felt beyond exhausted at thirty-something hours awake, and his didn't include any near-death experiences. He'd have to ask what happened at some point, but preferrably not Scott. He’d rather not bring up more nasty recollections. Maybe Liam could tell him.

He shook his head and clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. Ryder was fine, he was here, and was fine, sound asleep behind him. He went back to the task at hand. There was still some stuff to check over and he really needed to get some sleep too.  And a shower. Definitely a shower.

For the next few hours he did his work and did not get fully ‘distracted’ again. The only times his mind wandered off was on those very few occasions where his ears would pick up a slight hitch in the consistent humming sound of the drive core in the background. A hitch, like the lightest, softest hint of a snoring breath, there for a second each time then gone so quickly that he would wonder if he’d imagined it…

And all he could think of during those fleeting moments was how sweet and companionable that sound was.

And how he could just listen to it forever…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1:  
> Thanks everyone so much for your kudos, and a special thanks to those who've taken the time to drop a comment, you guys are the best. Also the usual reminder that I'm fully open to feedback, good and bad.
> 
> Note 2:  
> I will be taking a break for a couple of weeks as I'm going abroad and need to recharge some batteries, which means we will skip one fortnight of posting. 
> 
> Next chapter will most likely be a return to Scott's POV.


	9. Organic trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder recovers after his ill-advised attempt to take on everything at once. Some mishaps, some discussion, and some sharing of experiences.

Scott’s eyelids fluttered and shifted, as his eyes slowly began to open. His head started coming up a few inches, body trying to instigate the process of waking from a deep and heavy sleep.

 _Sleep… More like a coma,_ he thought.

He heard a light pat as something fell to the floor, but he was too groggy to question it. Damn, he’d pretty much passed out. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his palms, then blinked a few times and took a look around him. To his left he could see the vehicle bay through the glass window, and to his right was the drive core, its hum consistent in the background. The lights were dimmed and the console was switched off, a small light on the top-right probably indicating suspended mode.

As he looked at it, his brain slowly started to regain cognitive thought, realizing where he was. He blinked again, then pushed himself off the glass he was leaning on, sitting upright. A sharp stab of abrupt pain on different parts of his body pulled him back and snapped his mind into place. What the fuck? His arms and shoulders were cramped to all hell, and the rest of him was sore. How the hell had he just gone to sleep in engineering?

He slowly began stretching and rolling his aching joints, testing the boundaries of the cramping, and at the same time rifling through the last few moments from last night in his exhausted mind. He came up with vague fragments.

He remembered walking in to Engineering, a short conversation with Gil, and not much else. The man wasn’t in the room, and judging by the console being switched off and the lights being dimmed, he’d left quite some time ago. Scott felt a tinge of embarrassment creep up his sore face and he rubbed it, his fingers tracing deep sleep lines. He looked at his reflection on the glass and sure enough, the left side of his face was full of them. He looked around and his eyes fell on a small bundle on the floor. He recalled the sound he’d heard after waking up. So that's what it was. His jacket, all folded up. He’d clearly used it as a pillow, even though he had no recollection of doing that. He bent down and picked it up.

Had Gil left because of him, or was he just done for the night? Scott had fallen asleep in his workspace – so damn rude of him – and Gil had obviously not woken him up, but had left the room. What a _great_ first impression he must’ve given. The Pathfinder who disrupts his team’s work by going there to talk, then just falls asleep where they’re working. Damn it. Well at least his soreness was some sort of penance. That and his mouth, which felt dry and bitter; probably because he hadn’t had time to brush his teeth before passing out.

 _[“Good morning Pathfinder”]_ came a voice in his head, and his heart jumped for a fraction of a second.

SAM. Of course, the AI was with him now. That was gonna take some getting used to.

“Hey SAM” he said. “Did you say morning? What time is it, how long did I sleep?”

[“3:30am. You have been asleep for nine hours”]

 _Nine hours?_ He’d slept in here for nine hours? No wonder he felt all cramped up and sore.

“SAM, this is Engineering. I shouldn’t be _sleeping_ in here. Why didn’t you wake me?!”

[“I felt you were pushing yourself too hard Ryder. Your body needed the rest.”]

“Well, I don’t get that great a rest sleeping in a chair with my neck all twisted. Plus falling asleep while you’re talking to someone is not cool SAM, no matter how tired you are. Especially in their workspace.”

[“I asked Mr. Brodie whether he would like me to wake you, but he insisted there was no need. If it helps, you were not a hindrance to his work in any way.”]

It helped somewhat, but Scott still felt like a fool.

“So, why did he leave?”

[“Mr. Brodie finished his work and retired to his quarters to rest about seven hours ago. He and the rest of the crew are all currently asleep.”]

Of course. He must’ve been pretty tired too since he’d spent all that time prepping the ship then monitoring its performance all day long.

“I see…” he said. “Well… next time don’t let me just sleep in random rooms SAM. Even if I wasn’t in Gil’s way I’m sore as all hell right now” he added and rolled his shoulder again. It made a painful crack sound, and he stopped. “Ouch, and cramped.”

[“Understood, Pathfinder. However, it would be preferable if you avoided remaining awake for such a long period of time again.”]

“C’mon, I wasn’t up that long…”

[“You’d been without sleep for nearly forty-eight hours.”] said the AI and Scott’s eyebrows shot up. Had it really been that long since he’d last slept? [“That is very much inadvisable, as human adults require 7-9 hours of sleep per night.”] SAM went on.

Scott thought about it, and the more he thought, the more he realized that he actually couldn’t remember sleeping during these last two days. He hadn’t even noticed… He remembered being quite tired, and thinking he’d have to rest eventually. And he also remembered thinking _just a little longer_.

Multiple times.

First, waking up out of Cryo, hitting the Scourge, zero-g, and Sara. Then, the mission on Habitat 7. That had really taken a lot of energy out of him, what with the shuttles crashing and the lightning, and the aliens, those “Kett”. He’d passed out after the mission but _nearly dying_ didn't really count as sleep. SAM had been hard at work trying to kick-start his body and his destroyed blood vessels again, bringing him back from the brink. And then… he hadn’t really slept after that. He’d had to deal with accepting his new responsibilities as Pathfinder the moment he got up; figure things out; speak to the Nexus leadership; run around the Nexus to see if anyone needed the Pathfinder’s help – which unsurprisingly a lot of people did; then get on a new ship, look around and chart a course for their first flight; oversee the location of resource deposits and the probe launches; and then actually speak to his crew and get to know them at least a little.

Each of those tasks had been incredibly important of course, and as each came up, he hadn’t seen any way they could wait. He couldn’t postpone talking to the Nexus leaders, or letting people know that the Pathfinder was there and give them a bit hope (that was so sorely needed); he couldn’t just get on the ship without setting a course or just go to sleep without speaking to the people who were gonna be his team and get to know them…

He hadn’t even realized he’d been pushing himself until now. It made sense that he’d just fall asleep the moment he got a little comfortable. And in hindsight was also dangerous and stupid of him.

_So stupid._

He had to be at peak condition for this job. What if he’d passed out during combat? What would have happened to his teammates then? Being tired meant it’d be easier to make mistakes. And his mistakes could screw things up for a lot of people who depended on him.

“You’re, um… you’re right, SAM. I definitely overdid it,” he said meekly. “I’ll try not to push myself like that again, and if you see me doing so please just tell me.”

[“That is good to hear Ryder, and I apologize for not letting you know sooner. Alec wasn’t very receptive to my suggestions regarding his health.”]

Scott could definitely believe that. He could almost see his father going _“I’m fine, SAM”_ if it was ever suggested that he should take a break.

“I’ll always hear you out SAM. I’m uh… I’m already suffering the consequences of sleeping so rigidly for that long, so I’d rather avoid this next time.”

His neck was the worst. It would take a good few hours and some solid massaging to regain full range of motion without hurting.

[“Regarding the symptoms of your abnormal sleep position, if you’d allow me to trigger your musculature I should be able to help.”]

Scott thought about it for a brief second, then nodded, partly out of curiosity and partly to get rid of the stiffness. “Alright, go ahead.”

[“Please hold on to the table as your muscles will contract and expand. You might feel momentarily weakened.”]

He did as he was told, grabbing on to the table nearby.

“Ready.”

He felt a light tingling sensation down his spine, then _CRACK._

Suddenly every single muscle on his back and neck spasmed as if he’d been jolted with electricity. The unpleasant sensation travelled travelled outwards from his spine, into his arms, and his legs, all the way up to his fingers. His knees almost gave way for a second but he had a good grip on the table and held himself up. It was like every muscle fiber, every ligament and every sinew was firing at once.

[“That should suffice”] SAM said after a few seconds, and the sensation stopped.

Ryder stood up straight and flexed and stretched his neck and back, rolling his head from side to side.

_Oh wow!_

The pain and the stifness was pretty much gone! There was still a light numbness on his left shoulder, but it was negligible compared to how uncomfortable he’d been feeling just moments ago. That was an interesting experience... He wondered whether Lexi would tell them off for doing that.

“Thanks, SAM” he said appreciatively, trying to disguise the mild alarm he felt.

[“Anytime, Pathfinder.”]

 _Anytime indeed_ , Scott thought and grabbed his jacket from the table, then left engineering to head towards the bathroom. He really needed to take a shower and wash off the exhaustion and the dirtiness of these last forty-eight hours.

Now that he’d been jolted he felt more alert and could actually recall more of his conversation with Gil. He’d asked whether Scott was worried about the control SAM could exert over his body. At the time he’d tried to downplay it as a minor concern, cos as the Pathfinder he had to assuage his crew’s fears. But truth be told he didn’t really **know** what he was doing with SAM, and felt a little in over his head, especially after moments like the one just now.

Technically, with the fail-safes removed, SAM could take over his motor functions if he wanted. When they spoke in SAM node before they left the Nexus he’d said it allowed him “unrestricted access to the Pathfinder’s physiology” and what he’d just done to Scott’s muscles proved it beyond a doubt. All in all if Scott was being honest it was a little unsettling.

He continued thinking on that as the door to the bathroom slid open and he walked in. He locked it behind him then began undressing. He fiddled with the white round dial to get the water temperature right and walked in as the water spray started pouring down.

The warm shower felt like balm on a wound, and he felt instantly relaxed the moment it hit him. He closed his eyes and let it just wash over him for a few moments without even moving, just enjoying the sensation of it massaging his body and transferring its warmth to him. He swiped back a couple of wet strands of hair that had fallen down in front of his face and felt entirely at ease.

It even helped untangle his mind with the thoughts on SAM.

It was a little alarming yes, but it was also… reassuring, having someone else there alongside him. He knew that the AI had his best interests at heart, and like Liam had said if it hadn’t been for SAM none of them would have made it out alive on Habitat 7. Moreover, the fact that he had asked for permission just to alleviate Scott’s pain meant that the AI understood the idea of boundaries at least on a basic level.

He chuckled as he thought that _of course_ SAM would understand boundaries. He’d done this with Alec Ryder first. That was probably the first thing his father had taught the AI.

He stopped the flow of water with a gesture over the dials and pushed a shampoo dispenser on the shower wall, getting it to release a small goop of the fragrant liquid, then threading it through his hair.

Yea, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. He realized he’d already started using SAM for his Pathfinder duties. He’d asked him to keep track of the tasks he’d accepted to do for the people around the Nexus – like the case of that turian accused of murder, Nilken. He’d even helped him locate that guy who’d been setting explosives before anyone got killed.

And in return Scott was SAM’s “ _window into the world_ ” as he called it.

Yea… AI or not, theirs was a partnership. And despite his determination to make it work as Pathfinder, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it without SAM’s help. So he’d give him his trust, just like he’d trust any other member of his crew to have his back.

_My crew…_

He reached for the second dispenser that contained shower gel, retrieved some, then began scrubbing himself down, trying to get the grime off.

He’d spent quite a few hours in the Nexus poring over the crew’s Initiative files and although those gave him a basic idea of their skillsets, they didn’t say much about who these people really were. That was one reason why he’d wanted to get them all together. And yea, that dinner had been a little bit awkward, but it had served its purpose – minus the soup, which was a trial he could’ve done without.

He made another gesture in front of the dials for the shower and a stream of water started again, aiding his hands in washing away the soapy foam that was now covering him from head to toe.

And even more important was taking the time after that dinner to speak to everyone individually. That was something he’d learned from Shepard’s style of leadership. Making the interactions and relationship with his team more personal as time passed was definitely the way to go. And he’d already made good strides with everyone… except Gil.

He frowned and rubbed his face a little harder than was necessary to remove the soap.

Gil seemed like an interesting character and Scott wanted to know more about him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he’d just made a mess of most of their meetings thus far.

During their first one in Kesh’s office his mind had pretty much just drawn a blank as they shook hands and he’d held on for way too long, until Kesh pointed it out. Then he’d practically recoiled from just a casual mention of his father – which must’ve totally made him look like an oversensitive little _bitch_. Then he’d almost ruined the awkward-but-light atmosphere at dinner with his mention of SAM’s _unlocked_ functions. And finally, when he actually got a chance to speak with him again, he’d earned the crown jewel of oddball behaviour by just falling asleep halfway through a conversation like a damn savage.

He puffed out a breath, a few drops of water following the direction of the air escaping his lips, then switched off the water supply and raked his fingers through his hair, trying to squeeze out most of the moisture. Well, all that was left now was to dry up, then get dressed in a clean change of clothes and…

He looked around.

_Shit._

He’d brought neither his towel nor a change of clothes into the bathroom with him. Goddamn it. He looked around again for something he could use. There was a hand towel next to the sink which was folded up and seemed clean. He could use that to get a little dry and not drip all across the floor… then for clothes he might have to wear his discarded ones to get back to his quarters, then pat himself down properly and get dressed. He looked at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, and made an unpleasant grimace.

Those layers had gone through a lot of sweat and grime and he didn’t really wanna put those on again. He didn’t really need to, right? It was basically three AM at night, SAM had already said that everyone was sleeping, and his room was literally around the corner.

He grabbed the hand towel and started patting himself down to absorb most of the water on his hair and shoulders, then did the same around his legs and feet. Once that was done, he wrapped the small towel around his waist and secured it in place. It felt cold and damp, and was pressing up uncomfortably against his junk, but his room was like four feet away from the bathroom so it didn’t matter. He grabbed the pile of clothes with one hand and unlocked the doors. The side that was looking out into the hallway opened with a hiss. As he made to walk out, his gaze fell on the first thing across the hallway, which was the Galley, its doors wide open. And a pair of eyes, looking directly at him.

Gil's eyes.

For the next three seconds, Scott couldn’t move, but managed to see everything at once.

Gil had a datapad in one hand, and a mug on the other which was raised halfway to his lips, now still as a statue. His mouth stood half open, looking equally shocked, and his eyes were fixed on Scott’s face for the first couple of seconds. Then they moved… south.

That pushed him out of his frozen state, as he felt all the blood in his body rushing up to his face. With three lightning-quick strides he reached the door to his quarters, then practically squeezed himself through the crack before they’d slid open all the way because _fuck waiting for them_ to open in their own time. As he got through and into his room with one foot, his other foot’s heel slipped thanks to some leftover dampness that the hand towel hadn’t picked up. He fell forward, smacking a knee against the hard floor surface and then sat down on the floor and held it in pain, calling out multiple expletives. He reached up from the floor with one hand while clutching his knee with the other and locked the door.

 _Unbelievable…_ he thought and swiped a palm across his face in desperation. He’d just been thinking that he’d made a fool of himself every single time he and Gil had met…

_Un-fffffffffffffffucking-believable…_

He sighed and got up, wincing slightly as he got a pinch of pain from his knee, then walked over to his closet and took out a large bath towel and a change of clothes. He sat down at the edge of his bed and began drying himself up properly, rubbing vigorously as if to wipe off the shame along with excess moisture. Gil was probably still out there wondering what the fuck this idiot in here was doing. Scott’s face felt hot with renewed embarrassment.

[“Pathfinder, please put some ice on your knee as soon as possible”] came SAM’s voice in his head and Scott felt some misdirected anger at the AI rising. [“You have not sustained any serious injury, but it may leave a painful bruise.”]

“Screw the ice SAM, you said everyone was sleeping! What the hell?”

[“That was true at the time. Mr. Brodie woke up shortly after you went into the bathroom.”]

Dammit, why the hell was Gil up this early? And why didn’t SAM give him a warning?

“Well…" he started but had nothing to add to it. His damn knee hurt adding to his annoyance and he could tell he was looking for someone to blame, but it wasn't anyone else's fault really. "Well... shit.”

[“Mr. Brodie is outside. He has inquired as to whether you are ok.”]

Scott took a deep breath and let it out, calming himself down a little. He was getting pissy just to cover up his embarrassment.

 _It’s not the end of the world, right?_ he thought, trying to convince himself. It didn’t really work.

“Tell him I’m fine SAM” he said, and got up to dress himself.

Underwear, then pants…

[“He’s asking whether you’ve been injured.”]

“I haven’t been injured,” he replied impatiently. “Just tell him what you told me.”

T-shirt, then his grey hoodie…

[“I’ve informed him that the area needs to have some ice put on it. He is asking whether he should wake Dr. T’Perro.”]

“No, damn it! Look, just tell him I’ll be out in a second.”

[“He says _ok good_ , and that he’s made coffee.”]

Scott groaned. There’d be no avoiding this it seemed. Might as well get it over with.

He put on socks and a pair of shoes and walked to his door. There was no point in stalling, so he just unlocked it and walked out, then turned left into the galley.

True to his word, Gil was standing over the counter where a pot of coffee was heating up. He turned to look at him as he walked in.

“Well well, look who’s decided to make an appearance!” he said jovially. Scott shook his head, and Gil went on. “I was gonna say I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on, but I don’t want you taking it the wrong way,” he teased.

Scott’s mouth twitched in an involuntary smile, but the shame was still too hot on his face. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Sorry I uh… didn’t know anyone would be up this early.”

“So, are you telling me that you do this regularly when people are sleeping?”

Scott wasn’t sure if Gil was joking now so he turned and glanced towards him. He had one eyebrow raised and met Scott's eyes with a mischievous gaze. As he saw the expression, Scott snorted a little bit and broke out in a light laughter that carried both amusement and a little relief at the same time. He felt his embarrassment fading – but there was still a fair amount left.

“I usually avoid doing it the first week I’m assigned somewhere,” he joked. It was Gil’s turn to huff out a chuckle as he turned back to the coffee pot and took it off the machine. “No, I’m kidding I uh… I forgot to bring in my bath towel and a change of clothes, so I figured I’d just chance it to my quarters. You know, since it’s so early and no one is gonna be up…”

“Ha,” Gil replied, “Little did you know that I wake up at four!” Scott’s eyebrows rose at that. Four? “How do you take your coffee?” Gil asked.

“Seriously? You mean this wasn’t a coincidence? And um… black, thanks.”

“Nope. Grab a seat” Gil said and nodded toward the table with his head. Scott pulled out one of the swivel chairs and spun it around to face towards the countertops as Gil was pouring out the coffee into a black mug. “Definitely no coincidence. As cool – or as unfortunate, depending on your perspective – as it’d be to think that fate got me to witness the Pathfinder half-naked,” he said with one long breath, “the truth is way more boring I’m afraid. I’m always up at four in the morning. Wild nights and/or hangovers nonwithstanding,” he added and put the mug down in front of Scott, then headed off to the side towards the fridge.

“Do you have a lot of those? Wild nights I mean.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Gil replied with obvious exaggeration. “Hadn’t you heard? Andromeda is THE destination for all the best nights out. We’re talking the equivalent of Ibiza back on Earth! Only with twenty-hour workdays instead of a nightlife, and an impending sense of doom instead of alcohol.” he added as he rummaged through the freezer.

“Right, you were on the Nexus, of course...” Scott said as he looked down at his drink and took a sip, nodding sympathetically. He still hadn't gotten over his blunder, but this quick slip into casual conversation helped take his mind off it.

“I was. But to be honest even back in the Milky Way I wasn’t really a party-boy. Here, for your knee,” Gil said and put an ice pack down on the table.

“Thanks.”

Scott picked it up. He pulled the leg of his pants up to his thigh, then pushed the pack against his knee. The coolness spread immediately, and he felt the relief on the point of impact. “Oh and for the coffee as well, it’s really good.”

Gil nodded as he brought his own mug of coffee and sat on the bench behind the table, opposite Scott. He raised his cup in cheers and Scott met him halfway as their mugs clinked. He took another sip as Gil tapped something on his Omnitool.

“Consider it a reward for remaining within your water allocation levels.”

“Water allocation levels? You mean for the showers?”

“Yes...”

"There are _water allocation_ levels?"

Gil narrowed his eyes.

“So you _didn’t_ read my _welcome aboard_ email. So staying within your water limit was just luck huh?” Gil asked and shook his head in feigned disappointment.

“What? I never got an email!” Scott said acting overly hurt by the unfair accusation. Gil’s eyes narrowed further, and he tapped on his Omnitool again.

“What do you mean you didn’t get… Oh shit”, he said and his eyes widened for half a second. “My bad. You should have it now.”

“Great, and I promise I’ll read it **twice**. So is this allocation for rationing purposes?”

"Well we don’t have a planet to draw from, so until we settle one resources are still limited.

“Yea, makes sense I suppose.”

“Consider the coffee an apology for the unfair accusation,” Gil said with a flourish.

“Done but…" Scott began and he felt his embarassment rising again. He had to address his behavior, even if Gil seemed content to pretend nothing happened. "I think I owe you an apology as well,” he said.

Gil looked genuinely puzzled. “What for?”

 _Where to begin..._ Scott thought. “Falling asleep while we were talking yesterday?”

“Really?” Gil asked, tilting his head in an expression that clearly said ‘ _seriously?’_. It made Scott question himself a little, but he was committed now.

“Yea, I… thought it was rude as hell of me.”

“Yea… how dare you? That was an absolute felony Ryder. I hear being exhausted is a big crime in Andromeda, they should definitely lock you up for that,” Gil nodded with an expression of mock-seriousness.

Scott chuckled again and looked down at his drink. Gil's odd way of responding really put him at ease, even though he was basically mocking his attempt at an apology. He’d genuinely felt embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep earlier. He assumed Gil would think that the Pathfinder found him boring, or he didn't care about what the man had to say to pay enough attention. But Gil had just picked up that Scott was exhausted right away, and therefore made him feel a little foolish for apologizing about it. “So, you weren’t annoyed?” he asked, just to confirm.

“Ryder, it literally made no difference whatsoever, other than delaying a conversation. I’m not the kind of person who considers being tired something _rude_.”

“Ok, maybe no apology for that then,” Scott acquiesced. “But I definitely owe you one for what you saw just now. Back in the Milky Way I’d get an infraction for public indecency,” he said with a cheeky smile, trying to keep that embarassment as well hidden as possible.

Gil stroked his chin in a pronounced ‘ _I’m thinking’_ gesture as he considered that.

“Hmm… maybe, but only if you were reported. There’s no one to report that kind of thing to in Andromeda. And even if there was…” he shrugged, “I’d be lying if I said that what I saw was bad,” he added with a serious expression.

Scott felt a momentary tightness at the pit of his stomach at the direct and unexpected compliment, followed by heat rising up to his cheeks. Was that... Nah, he was probably just overthinking it.

“Fair enough,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. “Why were the galley doors open anyway?”

“Just a small malfunction, I’ll get it sorted out later today.”

“Of course. Just my luck…”

“Or mine…” Gil muttered as he took another sip.

Scott was surprised again, too much to respond directly. The first thing might have been a throaway line, or just a compliment or whatever, but the second was definitely flirting - of some kind. He figured it’d be a good idea to change the subject cos’ he was feeling a different kind of embarrassment – if you could call it that – creeping up on him, one that would likely trigger an unwanted _physiological response_ soon, if this kept going on.

“So, Vetra tells me you were really excited to join the Tempest crew” he said.

If he picked up on the deliberate change in topic, Gil gave no sign of it.

“Oh yea, definitely. Stuck on the Nexus, gotta say I was regretting joining the Initiative.”

“Seems like life back there was pretty bleak.”

“Not gonna lie, it sucked” Gil said in exasperation and swirled the coffee around in his mug and Scott noticed the liquid was a light brown. So Gil preferred milky coffee... “I tend to live the way I work. Kinda _feel it, do it_. Not a lot of close ties, no real sense of purpose. Figured I’d maybe find my true calling in Andromeda. Then I got here and _oops,_ I just made a decision there’s no turning back from. You can’t know how jazzed I was when you showed up.”

“Happy to be of service” Scott nodded. “I think you’ll see that showing up is only one of my **many** talents.”

The innuendo had slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was doing. Gil picked up on it immediately and he looked up, their eyes meeting. Now that he’d brought the situation right back to what he’d tried to avoid, Scott couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Is that right?” Gil said, voice lowered and eyes quickly scanning Scott’s face down and back up; making him feel the heat on his cheekbones redouble its intensity, and the threat of a response from down south more prominent than ever. “Well, I’ll be sure not to blink. I want to see them _all.”_

Scott’s mouth felt a little dry, but he still didn’t want to look away. He tried to play it cool. “Let me know if I go too fast for you.”

“Heh…” Gil chuckled, eyes still fixed on Scott’s, unblinking. “There’s no such thing.” That did it. Scott felt the stirring down below, and it snapped him back to the moment. He huffed a quick breath through his nose and took a swig from his mug. Breaking eye contact seemed to break the tension of the moment for Gil too.

“You just keep pointing this ship wherever you want her to go, and I’ll make sure she can get there,” he went on, now in a level tone more akin to the one he’d been using before. “Deal?”

He stuck out a hand. Scott grasped it and smiled.  
               “Deal,” he replied and they shook on it, Scott feeling way more in possession of his senses than he did a few seconds ago – albeit with some minor activity still going on down there which he pointedly ignored. “I suppose we should get to it then” he said and stood up, taking the ice pack off his knee and lowering the right leg of his pants back down.

“Definitely, lots to do before we hit Eos,” Gil agreed and shuffled out from behind the table. Scott emptied the pack in the sink, then filled it with water and placed it back in the freezer. He flexed his knee, and tried putting some weight on it. It was still a little off, but much better than before.

“All good?” Gil asked. Scott nodded.

“Yep, good to go. It was good talking to you Gil” he said with a smile, “and thanks again for the coffee and the ice pack.”

“Same here, and don’t mention it.”

“We should chat again sometime.”

“Well. You’re the Pathfinder, I’m sure you’ll know where to find me.”

Scott nodded then turned and walked out of the galley, half-filled mug still in hand.

“I’ll see you around then,” he said.

“See you, Pathfinder” Gil replied, and they headed in opposite directions, Gil towards Engineering and Scott towards the Bridge.

*

He had a lot of stuff he wanted to do before they reached the Nexus for their short stop. He had to write three reports for Tann and Addison. One was an Overview with a detailed summary but high-level figures, the second was a breakdown of what resources they found as well as the drones they used, and the third was a summary of readings on the Scourge. But his mind was not in the right place for it right now. It kept drifting back to Gil, and what had just occurred.

To start, he’d had no idea that Gil was into guys before this. That was cool, but did it mean anything? Should it mean anything? Scott didn’t have first-hand experience when it came to these things, only what he’d picked up from Sara. But it didn’t really matter… He was the Pathfinder now and he’d already decided to commit himself to the task one hundred percent.

Ok, so Gil found him attractive to some extent, at least enough to be willing to flirt with him. And Scott had to admit, Gil was quite good-looking himself. Which is why he’d flirted back, before really thinking it through. But that’s all it was, just a little harmless flirting. Nothing wrong with that. It wasn’t going to distract him from his Pathfinder duties, they were just talking. He summarized it in his head:

_A little harmless flirting, with no reason to read into it, and no real downside. Good. We're good._

Ok, then he could just focus on his work. Starting with the reports.

[“Pathfinder, may I ask you a question?”] came SAM’s voice in their private channel.

“Sure SAM, what’s up?” he replied, glad to have an excuse to put the reports off for a little longer.

[“I have experienced human interaction through the eyes of Alec multiple times.”] SAM began, and Scott felt a sense of unease growing with each word. [“However, I’ve never experienced an interaction like the one that took place between you and Gil.”]

_Oh no…_

[“Your heartrate jumped abruptly during several moments, your overall pulse quickened, and your pupils were dilated for the majority of your conversation.”]

_Oh my god…_

“Well, it might’ve just been the caffeine SAM. That **was** a strong coffee blend” Scott deflected, trying to avoid having to say out loud that he was actually attracted to Gil.

[“That is highly unlikely. I have recorded the effect that caffeine has on your metabolism and heart rate. It increases resting heartbeat, but it does not cause you abrupt spikes like the ones you experienced.”]

Duh. Scott didn’t know what he expected when he’d decided to try and lie to an AI. Of course SAM would be able to tell the difference. 

[“Moreover,”] SAM went on, [“While Caffeine may explain some of the symptoms such as the pupil dilation and quickening of your pulse, you also seemed to experience a few symptoms that cannot be attributed to caffeine. For example a release of dopamine, and some degree of stimulation in your geni –“]

“AAAAAND thaaaaat’s ok SAM” Scott interrupted hurriedly, “I get what you’re saying, I get it, it’s enough. That, was actually a conversation, that also included what we call _flirting.”_ he began, trying to just keep on talking - if only just to stop his mind from dwelling on the fact that his private parts were under surveillance. “When you’re attracted to someone, you might have this sort of exchange, where you let the other person know that you find them attractive but in a playful manner, rather than with… serious intentions.”

[“I see. Your physiological response however indicated that you were at the early stages of the process of getting ready for intercour –“]

“I WASN’T…” Scott interrupted again and raised his hands in the air as if to physically stop the onslaught of awkwardness, “I wasn’t, getting ready for anything, SAM. Sometimes… men have an involuntary response to these things but it doesn’t mean we are _getting ready_ to do something about it. I mean is this the first time you hear this stuff? Didn’t my dad...” he realized what he was asking as he was asking it and recoiled in horror. “…NO! Do **not** answer that last question.”

[“As you wish. So, attraction and stimulation can occur between members of the same sex?”]

“Of course it can, as you just saw.”

[“Very well, I understand. Thank you, Pathfinder.”]

 _Well, at least it’s over,_ Scott thought and sighed with relief. The absurdity of it all! It was… a trial, but it made sense that SAM would not have experienced any of that through his father. Alec loved his wife way too much. He probably never turned to look at anyone else even after she passed away. It made sense that he’d go… celibate – he cringed at the thought since it implied that he wasn’t celibate before and ugh… no.

But it also made sense that SAM wouldn’t know about same-sex relationships. Sexual orientation is not tied to a person’s physiology after all. You’re attracted to who you’re attracted to, and that’s it. So his father wouldn’t really have much of a way to put that into perspective for SAM. He technically could’ve done it when contextualizing Scott to the AI, but since Scott wasn’t with someone it probably didn’t even cross his mind. And that probably also meant that SAM didn’t really have context for any sexual behaviour and…

 _Nope._ Ryder thought _._ This was where he’d draw the line for his brain. _Too much. Too much right now, can’t deal._ He was not ready to talk the birds and the bees with an AI, so that would have to wait. And it would probably have to wait quite a long while, if not forever. First off because Scott himself wasn’t planning on doing that anytime soon – what with his Pathfinder duties – and second because even if he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to deal with letting SAM monitor his physiology while it was happening. Speaking of which…

“SAM?”

[“Yes, Pathfinder?”]

“Now that you have context for what flirting is and how it works, I'd like you to fully disable your monitoring and enhancement of my physiology the next time it happens, please. If it happens again.”

[“Understood, Pathfinder.”]

“And while we’re at it, please do the same if at ANY point you detect…”

_Can’t believe I’m about to say this…_

“If at any point, you detect _arousal_ …” He cringed.

[“Of course, Pathfinder. I will add these exceptions to my protocols”]

Well... At least that was done.

“Thank you. Now I want you to tell me whether you can compile the following reports…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy International Fanworks Day all! I wanted to keep this chapter concise to just give the guys some time alone, since Scott's martyr syndrome robbed them of their first conversation. Sometimes it's about the simple things.
> 
> Note 1:  
> A big thanks and an apology to everyone who commented and didn't get a reply yet, I only got to see comments when I got on here again to post and wasn't expecting the influx. I've just learned that I can turn on email notifications, so from now on I'll know the moment someone leaves one. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read, kudos or comment. 
> 
> Note 2:  
> As I'm sure you’ve noticed, Gil’s doing a fair bit of flirting here. Just wanted to drop in that nothing has really “changed” since his perspective chapters, but this event is sort of a catalyst (har-har Mass Effect puns). Its effect and implications will be seen at some point in the future – probably when we return to Gil's perspective again.
> 
> That's all. It genuinely means a lot to know people are enjoying the story, even at times when I'm doubting the quality of my writing. You all rock!


	10. Traces of Leadership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott tries to take his first few steps as a leader, and finds some inner strength reserves he didn't know he had. Is he being naive or is this the right way forward? Time will tell.

**From: Gil Brodie**

Subject: FW: Welcome aboard!

_Welcome to the Tempest!_

_You find yourself on board a fantastic vessel with highly advanced facilities, all designed to help the Pathfinder and his team achieve our lofty goals in Andromeda. Everything from navigation and propulsion systems down to the functional exercise equipment is state-of-the-art. Attached to this email you will find a link to an interactive map of the ship with all amenities tagged and catalogued. You can search for what you need by running a simple search query._

_Below you will also find details of rotations, schedules, food and water allocations, quiet hours etc. Make sure you commit your personal info to memory as it’s important for all of us to be on the same page to keep things running as smoothly as possible._

_When it comes to consumable resources the split is handled by our lovely quartermaster Vetra, who informs me that it is precisely calculated based on each crew member’s specific needs such as size, height, weight, calorie expenditure etc._

_If you go over your allocations, I will give you a heads-up. If you do it repeatedly, I will rat you out to Vetra without the slightest hesitation, and may whatever deity you pray to have mercy on your soul._

_The info contained in this mail is for crew members’ eyes only, so don’t go sharing it around…_

Ryder was seated at his desk in the Pathfinder’s quarters, and had a small smile on his face as he read through the rest of the mostly mundane email, like he promised he would. The contents and actual information was easy to find, and the writing itself was peppered with Gil’s odd sense of humor. It seemed like even when he was conveying important information, the guy did not take himself too seriously, and Scott liked that. He figured they’d need some light-heartedness in the days to come.

“SAM, could you please file away my allocations and let me know if I’m approaching the limits?”

[“Sure thing, Pathfinder”] came the echo in his head.

“Thanks,” he replied gratefully.

Scott was getting more and more acquainted with the idea of having SAM around to share his sensory input. Despite the implications for his privacy he had to admit that it was extremely useful to be linked with someone who could literally record and process information as it appeared, then bring it up whenever was necessary. Since SAM’s processing power and storage capability was infinitely greater than Scott’s with his human brain, it wasn’t even a blip on the radar for the AI, and it freed Scott’s mind from having to recall things like that himself.  
  And sure, what he’d just asked SAM to do was a small thing compared to the help the AI could provide out in the field, but it was one less thing he had to worry about. Over time, a lot of these small things would definitely stack up.

He activated the team comms.

“Kallo, what’s our ETA on the Nexus?”

“Five hours away, at approximately 18:00 hours Ryder.”

“Good.” Ryder said, nodding to himself. “Team, I suggest you use that time to take a break. I know you’ve all been heads-down in work and prep these last twenty-four hours and our stop at the Nexus will be very short. Then we’ll be heading straight to Eos; so it’s probably gonna be a while before we get another chance to take a breather.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” came Liam’s voice. “I’m getting sick of looking at Kett attack reports,” he added, exasperated.  “Gil, you up for proving your allegedly great poker skills?”

“Always” Gil replied in a playful tone. “Anyone else feel like parting with their credits?”

“I’m up for a few hands. We haven’t played in nearly six hundred years” Vetra joined in.

“Oh c’mon now Vetra, you know it wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d played on the whole trip to Andromeda.”

“Humble as always Gil.”

“Humble is my middle name.”

“I might join as well,” Lexi added in her smooth voice.

“Great, we’ll set up in the Galley. Pathfinder?”

Scott yawned and covered his face with a hand before replying. “Not today I’m afraid. I think I need a little rest before we hit the Nexus.”

“Why don’t you rest before we hit Eos?”

“Gonna need that time to prepare” Scott replied. His mind wandered to his father. “I’d rather avoid a repeat of Habitat 7” he added, then cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

A short, awkward silence fell over the comms.

“…ok, fair enough” Gil replied, and cleared his throat.

Scott sarcastically congratulated himself in his head for once again bringing down the mood and reminding them all of the doom and gloom scenarios that might await them. What an inspiring leader he was being…

“I think I’ll follow Ryder’s example” said Cora.

“At being boring?” Vetra teased.

“At being prudent. And tired.” Cora shot back.

 _Prudent._ Scott thought and held back a smile. There was something he’d never been called before. More importantly however Vetra’s jibe and Cora’s _prudence_ seemed to have given everyone a chance to bypass the downer mood that he had brought and the comms buzzed back to life with everyone talking at the same time.

“Alright, anyone else up for it, consider this an open invitation if you want to join.”

“Got it.”

“Me and Kallo might join too.”

“Ooh, this might be an interesting one.”

“Let’s get some food first I’m starving.”

“Ryder out” Scott called.

“Night-night Pathfinder,” he heard Vetra tease as he disconnected the comm link and smiled.

Things with the crew were going well, it seemed. They’d only had little over a day to get acquainted and already they were comfortable enough with him – and each other – to have some banter. He was really happy about that cos’ Scott had always been an approachable guy. When he took on the role of Pathfinder one of his many, _many_ worries was that the crew would see him as someone “above them” and be all business, like his father’s crew had with Alec. He really didn’t want that though, and that was another reason he’d tried to get everyone in the same room together quickly and establish some rapport. He didn’t want to be the kind of person who just barked orders and saw his crew as “subordinates”. Sure, he had taken on the role of command but he’d need their help just as much as he’d need to lead them, and that meant getting to know them and care for them as well.

Right now he actually really wanted to join them for poker, but being well-rested took priority, and as he’d said there’d be no time before Eos. _The Pathfinder takes priority over the man._

Being in command meant he had to act responsibly.

Command…

Saying it and repeating it was fine, but it was still difficult to believe that he had command of a ship _._ He was the Pathfinder, and this was **his** crew. Back when he was in the Alliance he used to daydream of one day becoming the Commander of a ship and helping _make history_.

One day he’d imagine going to Omega and “cleaning it out”, taking out all the criminal elements and making it _safer –_ even though he didn’t really know what that would look like. Another day he’d imagine going to the Perseus Veil and taking care of the Geth, then forging a strong alliance with the grateful Quarians. He was entirely aware that they were naïve imaginings, but they were fun. Grandiose daydreams to pass the time when the day to day tasks at the station got too mind-numbing. Of course whenever he’d imagined those they’d take place around his mid-to-late thirties, not his early twenties.

But life didn’t work like that.

So here he was, twenty-two years old and carrying the hopes and dreams of the entire Initiative; with all the potential for success or failure, stretching ahead of him.

He entered his room, stretched his arms up and locked the door behind him, then took off his shirt, then his pants, and let them all drop on a pile next to his bed.

[“Well done on making the choice to rest, Pathfinder”] came his AI companion’s voice.

“Thanks SAM. I’d like to hang out with them all but as I promised, rest first” Scott replied. He slipped his thumbs on the inside of the rubber band of his black boxers and pushed them down, then pulled up the covers and jumped in. The moment his skin slid under the covers was a little slice of heaven. He nestled in deeper and felt the cool sensation of the fabric fade all around him, as it adjusted to the warmth his body was giving and balanced out.

_So comfortable…_

It struck him that he hadn’t actually slept in a proper bed since… Well, since the Milky Way. Before the leaving party even, cos’ that night he’d had so much to drink that he’d triggered his chip’s failsafe twice… That had made for a rather unpleasant night of which he only remembered what happened before and the after, not _during_.

But this bed was so comfortable. He nestled in deeper and felt his tired body relax. Sleep wouldn’t be far off at all, he knew.

[“Do you sleep in the nude, Pathfinder?”] SAM asked, and Scott noted gratefully that the volume of their private channel was much lower than usual. The AI had probably tuned it down so as to not disturb Scott’s drifting mind. A smile drew across his lips in appreciation of SAM’s thoughtfulness.

“Well, thish definitely ishn’t a shleep drill ShAM, sho…” he said, his speech somewhat muffled by his face being half-buried in his soft pillow.

So soft…

“Why, ish it bad for me?” he asked.

[“On the contrary, sleeping naked helps decrease cortisol, increases growth hormone and balances melatonin all of which are highly beneficial to your health.”]

“Gud. Why’d you ashk then?”

[“It’s just somewhat unusual for humans to sleep nude, from what I understand.”]

“Sho I hear… but I’ve been doing it for agesh and all I know ish it feelsh really good. Mmmm…” he trailed off, rubbing his face against the pillow some more and settling in, his eyes closing.

[“I see. I will let you rest. Sleep well, Pathfinder.”]

“Thanksh ShAM.”

Scott always enjoyed sleeping naked, and even though this wasn’t a full night’s sleep, he intended to make full use of it. There was something very calming about the sheets coming to contact directly with your skin, with no restrictive clothing around you, especially when you had to spend most of the day encased in protective, tight-fitting armor. Plus, it helped when you wanted to… take care of things late at night, or early in the morning – when the _wood_ came-a-calling.

His right hand was resting against his thigh, and he moved it at that thought, lazily brushing a finger over his soft manhood. The touch gave him a nice little shiver, but he was too tired and ready to drift off to do anything more than that. The bed was warm and cozy and he was about to fall asleep so he pulled his hand away and settled in for some much-needed _proper_ rest.

***

[“Pathfinder, it’s nearly time. The ship will be approaching the Nexus docks within the next ten minutes.”]

“Mhmm…” Scott mumbled and opened his eyes. The glow of light around his quarters had shifted from the blue-pinkish hue of the far rim of outer space, to the brighter blue-white hue of the Zheng He star. He pulled his arms over the covers and stretched out from head to toe, feeling his muscles expand and the blood circulating through them as his body woke up, then sat upright on the bed and rubbed his eyes, letting the covers slide off his chest down to his waist.

“Uhhh…” he yawned, “thanks SAM.”

[“Anytime, Scott.”]

He shifted to the side and got up on his feet, grabbing his undies and the clothes that he’d just left on a pile on the floor. He tossed the clothes on the bed and the boxers in a laundry basket nearby, then headed to his closet and grabbed a fresh pair. He returned to the bed and got dressed in his outfit, then stretched out the covers and put the pillows back in place. If his mom and the Alliance had both taught him one thing, it was to _always make your bed._ He smiled to himself as he patted down the sheets, then headed for the bathroom to wash up.

The cold water felt invigorating as he splashed it across his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of his sleep. He looked up at his dripping face and the mess that was his hair, then put his palm under the tap to pick up some water. He brought it up to his head, then raked it through his hair, pushing them back to their normal, human-looking position. He grabbed one of the small face towels and dried his face off, then headed towards the bridge.

Suvi and Kallo were in their seats as Scott approached the galaxy map.

“Hey guys, didn’t you join the others?”

“Hi Ryder, no, I had too much work to do” Suvi replied. “It’s our first return to the Nexus after locating quite a wide variety of mineral deposits. The science team will want details,” she said excitedly.

“Kallo?”

“I joined… for a time. But I had work to do too.”

Suvi let out a mischievous huff.

“I hear Gil is genuinely quite good at poker. Kallo’s wallet got quite a few credits lighter.”

“Hmph!” sneered the pilot. “He was alright, for a human. I underestimated him, that’s all.”

Scott pursed his lips trying to stifle a smile.

“I see…” he nodded. “Well, I’ll go check my emails by the terminal until we arrive.”

“We should be docking in five.”

Scott moved to the nearby terminal and input his details to access his emails. There was only one, with the subject “Final Proposal: Prof. N herik et al”. Scott tapped on the screen to open the message. It was an excerpt from a thesis, or a study of some sort:

_…since we are, by definition, an invasive species in Andromeda. Our footprint must be laid carefully, and we must preserve anything we replace._

_The Heleus Cluster presents an unexpected challenge. We arrived with seed archives and DNA banks to ensure preservation of the biodiversity of the Milky Way. But this cluster is scarred by the Scourge, and its unique flora and fauna are threatened by its turbulence. That, too requires caution._

Interesting. The Scourge was already here when they arrived, and Scott had seen the havoc it could cause first-hand on Habitat 7. He recalled the cave, sheltered from the storms and still harboring an abundance of plant species, almost like it was a different ecosystem than the one outside. And then there was them, the Milky Way races.

_Invasive species._

Dr. Herik was right about that, no doubt. Their impact on this galaxy could potentially be just as severe as that of the Scourge if they weren’t careful. Humans were one of the most numerous species in this Galaxy right now – until the other Arks were found – and humans were usually short-sighted, often failing to consider the long-term consequences they had on their habitats.

Like most other kids, Scott had been bored to death of the subject of History in school, most of the time. But when they’d come up on the section about the near-annihilation of humanity’s home planet, he’d paid full attention. He always remembered the vids of the huge storms and the rise in sea levels, and the melting ice-caps, that showed how humans made Earth almost uninhabitable for themselves and so many other species. All because of the thirst to exploit its resources and carve out pieces of the planet for themselves. Short-sightedness was a very distinctive human trait, the lesson was. If they hadn’t found the Prothean ruins on Mars, humans might not exist today. It served as a cautionary tale, and had been thoroughly seared into his young mind.

As the Pathfinder he’d have to be the first to remember it and make sure it didn’t happen here too. But how would you go about that?

Maybe he should prioritize finding the Asari ark first. With their inclination of being more in-tune with nature and their general longevity, they would definitely help in that regard.

“We’ve arrived at the Nexus, Pathfinder,” said Kallo, and Scott’s attention turned to the cockpit window. “Docking in five. Four. Three. Two. One…”

With the lightest movement, the Tempest was set down in the docking area, and Scott’s mind shifted from thoughts of Asari and humanity to the present.

“Alright team, if you have anything to do, or buy around the Nexus before we head to Eos, now’s your chance. Just make sure to rendezvous back here in two hours tops.”

A chorus of _got it,_ and _yes Pathfider_ came from the comms as the team got in place, some of them ready to disembark and some ready to return to their posts around the ship in preparation for Eos.

“Once we leave here we’ll be heading straight to the Pytheas system. See you all in two hours” added and walked out of the Tempest’s hatch and onto the Nexus dock. He headed straight to Nexus Command, to visit Tann and Addison. He needed to confirm the reports were good, and get some info on Eos.

He wasn’t particularly looking forward to meeting those two again, if he was being honest. From their first conversations they weren’t exactly Scott’s idea of leader-material. But then again, they’d probably say the exact same thing of him – and Addison had basically done just that – but they all had to work with what they had.

For the moment, he wasn’t really sure how to deal with either of them. Tann seemed more reasonable than Addison, but he was also more… manipulative, as well. Addison’s stance was straight up adversarial, doubting Scott’s ability right to his face, so at least he knew where they stood. Tann – on the surface –  seemed to have taken Scott’s side. When he’d visited his office, he’d said _Addison keeps her own counsel and I keep mine_. Then when Scott asked what happens when they disagree, Tann had said that he’d decided to _give him a chance_.

But Scott wasn’t born yesterday, and he had a penchant to recognize when he was being… played. Tann’s statement was meant to curry favor, but also served to assert his leadership. He was basically saying _I make the calls around here, and I’ve decided you can have a go at it_. And it also didn’t escape his notice that this endorsement was done in private, outside of Addison’s earshot. It was all very… political, and he didn’t like that. He always believed in honesty and direct action rather than obfuscated cloak-and-dagger dealings.

He gave a small sigh. At the end of the day, this was probably also going to be a consistent part of his duties, at least until he’d proven himself. And he’d do it, whether he felt like it or not.

*

Tann greeted him as he walked through the doors to his office.

“Pathfinder, welcome back. I trust the first flight of the Tempest went well?”

“Quite well. Everything ok with the report on the probes and the deposits we located?”

“Yes, it was quite comprehensive, much appreciated. We’ll be sending out shuttles to the nearest locations as soon as possible, here, here, and here.” Tann said and pointed at the floating map in front of him. “However some of the others are a little too far for shuttles to reach with our current status. We need to get a foothold in the cluster as soon as possible.”

“That’ what we’ll be working on next. This is the planet we landed on, Habitat 7” Scott said and pointed to it. “It wasn’t even close to liveable.”

“That’s been true of every world we’ve found” Tann replied. “The Scourge dealt us a serious blow. Our science team theorizes that it’s not natural.”

“An artificial energy cloud?”

“It wasn’t here when we left the Milky Way. Yet it’s rendered all the Golden Worlds unliveable.”

How odd. Artificial meant purpose, it meant deliberate design. He wondered if Suvi knew anything more about it. He made a mental note to ask her at some point as Tann went on: “Then there are the aliens you came across, the _Kett._ They’re obsessed with alien structures scattered around the cluster. They’ll do anything to prevent others from accessing them. Apparently murder isn’t exclusive to the Milky Way…”

“Yea, we saw that first-hand,” Scott replied solemnly, remembering Kirkland. Alien structures… He wondered if Tann meant structures similar to the ones they’d found on Habitat 7, the one his dad had used to stabilize the atmosphere there.

“Now the challenge is to settle Eos despite of all that.”

“You briefly mentioned last time that I’ll need to increase the planet’s _viability_. In what way?”

“Well, Eos is plagued by sandstorms and deadly radiation, and there are Kett outposts scattered throughout the area. They caused quite a problem in Site 2.”

“Site 2?”

“Yes, it was our second fruitless attempt at colonization. You might want to speak to Addison about the details.”

 _I’d rather not,_ Scott thought, but nodded instead.

“Will do. So how do I make them more viable?”

“A _good Pathfinder_ would relish the challenge of solving that puzzle,” Tann said and Scott’s eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit. There it was again.

 _And if I fail, it’s no sweat off your back, right? You’ll just look for another Pathfinder_ he thought, but kept that to himself as well. “Very well,” he nodded and smiled politely.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“May I ask what happened when the Nexus hit the Scourge?”

Tann sighed.

“The damage throughout the Nexus was extensive, but the greatest loss was that of life. A large wing of stasis pods was destroyed and hundreds of people died, many of them our senior leadership. Including, as you know, Jien Garson. They were all killed instantly. They all travelled for six hundred years and died before they even woke up” he added solemnly.

“And what about the uprising?”

“Criminal elements took advantage of the emergency and preyed on people’s fears. The uprising followed soon after.”

“And how did it end?”

“We had no choice but to send the Krogan to deal with them. They crushed the mutiny and the rebels were banished.”

Scott knew that must’ve been a very ugly business. Back at the station fighting against Krogan was always the most dangerous task, because they became so wild and ferocious when they entered their _battle rage._ He still remembered the first time he’d fought one when he had ripped through his barrier like it was made of cardboard, then nearly crushed his ribcage with a punch. From there on out they’d always assigned two people to each target when it came to Krogan.

But if Krogan had put down the rebellion here then that begged the question… Where were they all? Back in Cryo?

“There don’t seem to be many Krogan around though.”

“Good riddance” said Tann with an obvious air of derision, and Scott’s eyebrows shot up.

Really? So they were going to have to deal with Salarian/Krogan prejudice here as well? And from their supposed _leader_ too?

“Excuse me?” he said in disbelief.

“The Krogan demanded a greater say in political matters – the last place you’d want them involved. They’re muscle, nothing more.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all. It’s common knowledge that they’re a violent, ignorant species. Long ago they waged nuclear war on one another. Their planet was decimated.”

“ _Long ago_ , **humans** waged nuclear war on one another too. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Humans are different, they are more than simpleton brutes who show their superiority through combat and raw strength. I assume that as a human, you can tell the difference between your species and the Krogan.”

Scott shook his head and pursed his lips in disapproval. He wanted to shout the Salarian down, tell him to get a grip, have some goddamn respect and stop being such a walking cliché. _Director Tann._ Brand new galaxy, same old bullshit.

“You disagree?”

“Immensely, but it’ll have to wait. Is there anything else?” he asked sharply, wanting to let Tann see that he very much disapproved of his attitude.

“Nothing from me, but like I said earlier, you might learn more about Eos if you speak to Addison”.

“Will do. Director,” he said and nodded his head in a mocking gesture of respect. Tann didn’t seem to pick up on the mockery though and inclined his head as well.

“Good luck, Pathfinder.”

Scott turned around and left. Tann’s prejudice was a battle he’d have to fight another time, if he survived Eos, and made it as Pathfinder. But it was one which he’d definitely fight if it was within his power, because it was unfair, and he hated injustice, especially when it was based on prejudice. Tann was painting all the Krogan with the same brush, and placing his race and himself as their intellectual superior for no reason other than _they were Krogan_. It was like the Alliance, letting him go because of his dad’s AI research even though he himself had done nothing wrong.

This kind of thinking bred mistrust and anger, and would just continue the cycle of hate and antagonism that had gone on in the Milky Way between the two races. The Genophage, and the discontent, and the Council politics and power-hoarding, all the shit they were supposed to leave behind for a chance at a new life, as equals. It had followed them here.

In a way it made sense, since the people that came here all carried their Milky Way baggage, both physical and emotional. Didn’t mean it was ok though, nor that it should stay that way unchallenged. This was supposed to be a new start, for everyone.

He exited Tann’s office and headed up the ramp to find Addison, steadying himself for the second unpleasant encounter of the day.

*

As soon as he reached the top of the Colonial Affairs department he was approached by a tall man with grey hair wearing a visor and holding a datapad in hand. The guy offered his hand along with a big, bright smile.

“Pathfinder, an honor to meet you. William Spender, Colonial Affairs executive assistant.”

“Nice to meet you.”

 “Good job on locating the resources, they’ll come in very handy. I’m assuming you are to head off to Eos soon?”

“Yes, as soon as we’re done here, we’ll be departing for the Pytheas system. I just need to speak to Addison, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course. And if there’s anything else I can do for you just let me know” he said and stepped to one side to let Scott through.

Scott nodded and took a quick look at Spender’s face as he went by him to reach Addison. The man seemed friendly. Maybe a little over the top, but he didn’t think much of it.

“Director Addison. May I have a moment?” he said as the woman turned to look at him, then down at her datapad.

“Pathfinder” she said plainly, absorbed in whatever it was she was looking at.

 “I have a few questions if you don’t mind.”

“Regarding?”

“Eos, Site 1 and Site 2.”

That got her full attention. She looked up from the datapad.

“Go ahead.”

“I hear the Nexus has already made two attempts to settle Eos, Site 1 and Site 2 being the results of those?”

“Yes, we did. As you can imagine they didn’t pan out.”

“Could you give me some more details? We’re about to leave for Eos and I’d rather go in knowing as much as possible.”

Scott had fully expected her hostility to translate to complete unhelpfulness as well, so he was mildly surprised when she sighed and put the datapad down next to her.

“Site 1, was named ‘Promise’. A hopeful name, for a hopeful mission. The expedition and attempt to colonize the planet happened shortly after the rebellion.”

“How come you didn’t wait for the Arks to arrive?”

“We were at our wits’ end both when it came to resources and staff morale. Even if the Arks arrived they would find ruin and destruction, thanks to the Scourge and the uprising. We had to do something. So we sent shuttles, tools, minerals, building materials, and personnel. Whatever we could spare and still to keep the Nexus running. But Eos wasn’t welcoming. Its surface is heavily irradiated and constantly scoured by sandstorms.”

“Tann mentioned that. Any idea why?”

“We’re not entirely sure, but we think it’s a by-product of the Scourge.”

“And Site 1 settlers weren’t prepared for it?”

“Not well enough. Site 1 was chosen because it was in close proximity to a water source, but they didn’t have what they needed to decontaminate the water properly. And our communication protocols didn’t function, whether due to the Scourge or the radiation levels of the planet causing interference, we don’t know, but we were blind for a time.”

“So, they were on their own.”

“Effectively, yes. We couldn’t risk sending more people after them. They had what they needed to evacuate at any time if it was necessary.”

“What about Site 2?”

“The Initiative team abandoned Site 1 and moved to Site 2 when it became obvious that it was unviable. It went better, for a time. We even re-established communications from Site 2 as the location was more suitable. Then they were attacked. By Kett.”

“Why didn’t they evacuate?”

“Some of them did, but from what I understand, they didn’t have the time. Many of them became lost on Eos. The colonization effort was abandoned, and most people went back into Cryo.”

“That’s all?”

Addison shrugged. “Pretty much. It was a failure, and it nearly killed the Initiative and the Nexus. All our equipment and materials were abandoned there, wasting away, and we couldn’t even keep the lights on from that point onward.”

Scott felt like there was more to it, but Addison clammed down. It seemed that was all he’d be getting. It was enough, for now.

“I see. We’ll be heading off to Eos as soon as possible. Just wanted to check if you were happy with the resource reports before we headed off.”

“The reports were fine. And I will be happy when we’ve finally established an outpost and don’t have to worry about impending death.”

 _Oh I doubt you’ll ever be happy,_ Scott thought to himself. “Anything else?”

“It might be a good idea for you to land at Site 1, see if there’s anything usable there and at least make use of the shielding perimeter they’d set up. It should be intact for a while longer.”

“Thank you, we will. I’ll ask SAM to retrieve the coordinates.”

“Good luck, Pathfinder.”

“Director Addison” Scott inclined his head and turned around to walk away. Spender was standing a few feet away, seemingly fully absorbed in whatever was on his datapad, but Scott was sure he’d been listening in. Not that he cared.

He swirled the info he’d just received around in his head, as he walked to the transport terminal to head back to the docking bay and the Tempest.

Addison had definitely not shared the whole story with him. But at least he had enough so as to not head to Eos completely blind. The biggest problems they had to deal with was the radiation, the storms, and the Kett. Increasing _viability_ would probably involve solving both problems.

When it came to Kett, the solution was somewhat straightforward. Fight them, get rid of them. The difficulty would come in the execution, in not knowing their numbers, where they could strike from and so on. But the solution itself was simple. Fight them.

But the radiation and the storms were a different matter. You couldn’t fight off radiation or wind, and it wasn’t a bolt of lightning that you could just deflect. There was no biotic _radiation barrier_ – or maybe there was, but he definitely didn’t have the time to experiment with that. He didn’t even know how they’d navigate around the planet right now if those were going to be such a problem.

 _Many considerations, and a lot to do…_ He thought as he boarded the Tempest once again.

They’d find a way. This was the mission that would make or break all of the colonization efforts in Andromeda. The mission that would make or break Scott Ryder, Human Pathfinder.

 _No pressure, he mused_ as the doors shut behind him and the chamber began pressurizing with a soft hiss _._

***

“So, that’s the situation. If anyone’s got any ideas, I’m all ears” Scott said to the crew, all of them now gathered in the meeting room above the Research Center, looking thoughtful as he shared Tann and Addison’s scant information.

“Kett and deadly storms and radiation,” said Liam, “sounds like a party.”

“I’m assuming our armor’s life support won’t cover us for scouting the planet’s surface then?” asked Cora.

“SAM?”

“It is difficult to tell without landing there first. From what little data we have in our possession from the survivors, the concentration of radiation is spread unevenly throughout the surface of Eos. In some places, it is heavier than others. It is possible that the areas around Site 1 can be scouted with nothing but the suit’s life support, but it will surely be for short periods of time. Moreover, there's the issue of the powerful storms.”

“Could we perhaps use the Tempest to move around?” asked Lexi.

“Gil? Kallo?” Scott asked and the team all turned to look at the two.

“Technically we could, but it’ll be very inefficient” replied the engineer, rubbing his chin deep in thought.

“Indeed” Kallo added, “The tempest is a great survey ship, but it’s built to Scout planet to planet. It wasn’t designed to move around within a planets’ atmosphere for extended periods of time.”

“What constitutes an _extended period of time_ then?” Scott asked.

“Depends” said Gil. “It varies from one planet to another since atmospheric conditions aren’t the same. On Earth for example the ship would eat up roughly five times as much fuel to move within the atmosphere than through outer space or its upper layers. So we’d run low on fuel in about twelve hours of travel at a relatively slow speed. On Eos it sounds like it might happen even sooner, since we’ll have to crank up the radiation shielding to the max as well.”

“And that’s before mentioning that we’d have to fly at low altitudes, so it would be difficult to remain visually undetected for long. The ship’s stealth capabilities are very reliant on its speed in space.” Kallo added.

Scott let out a frustrated breath through his nose.

“Yea that’s not gonna work. We need to stay clear of Kett until we at least know the basics of the terrain. Can’t fight before we’ve even had our feet touch the ground.”

“And there’s also the fact that the ship lacks a main cannon,” Kallo added. “Getting spotted while moving slowly is definitely something we don’t want to do.”

A few more moments in silence passed, with everyone thinking frantically about possible solutions to the radiation conundrum. But it seemed like a waste of time, as no one could come up with any obvious answers.

“Ok,” Ryder said a few moments and patted a hand on the table “Thanks for the input everyone. It’s not the best start but we’ll make do with what we have right now. We’ll land on Site 1 quietly, then figure it out from there. That way we’ll at least have actual readings and won’t have to rely on guesswork. Kallo, what’s our ETA?”

“We’re scheduled to arrive at 04:20 hours, Pathfinder.”

“Ok, good, that gives us a solid seven hours and change, so let’s prepare for planetfall.”

Some people nodded, some replied _Yes Pathfinder,_ but the mood wasn’t a good one. It felt like uncertainty, worry and fear. Scott felt it in the air, down to his very bones. For a moment he felt like a kid again, unsure of what to do or how to act. There was so much riding on this one mission and they were already starting at a disadvantage.

 The crew started moving away and even though Scott had no idea what exactly he was going to do on Eos, right now he knew he couldn’t just leave it at that. He really had no clue how to go about this leadership thing. How did his father make the right words seem so damn effortless to find?

All else aside, he knew that they would work it out because they had to, and he had to let the crew know that he wholeheartedly believed that.

“Guys…” he said and everyone turned back to look at him. “Come back for a second, will you?” he asked, and they all started moving  back, some around the meeting table some further back around the room. He decided to just go with what came to mind and see where it took him. 

“Look, I know we’re off to a rocky start, but everything is riding on us here..." he began. "We all came here for different reasons, and with different hopes and dreams for Andromeda and Eos is the first, but most important step. Not just for us, but also for all those thousands of souls aboard the Nexus." he said and his mind went to Sara. He felt his resolve strengthen. This wasn't just for them. "So rest assured, that I’ll do everything within my power to make it happen. And honestly, with your help, there’s no doubt in my mind that we can do this. It **will** work out, no matter what, I promise you that. Ok?” he finished, then looked around with a determined expression, feeling a little nervous but inexplicably certain of what he was saying.

The tension that had been palpable just moments before seemed to withdraw behind softly smiling faces and approving nods.

“We’re all with you Ryder” Cora said and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

“Hear, hear” said Kallo and everyone around nodded.

“Glad to hear it guys” Ryder replied. “Now let's go get ready and make this happen.”

“Mate, those Kett won’t even know what hit them” Liam said as he passed by and gave Scott a clap on the back.

“You know it” Scott replied. “Oh by the way, Liam Cora and Vetra could you meet me down at the Galley four hours from now? I wanna go over squad and battle plans before we land.”

Three replies of _sure thing_ , _sounds good_ , and _you got it_ came back, and Scott gave them a quick thumbs-up. He put both hands over the large table so it held his weight, with the datapad where he’d made all his notes laid out between his arms.

The shuffling footsteps started fading away, and Scott remained there for a few more moments, staring at the datapad intensely, as if it could reveal some secret wisdom to him.

“That was quite inspiring” came a familiarly playful voice, and Scott looked up immediately, surprised that he hadn’t noticed that someone had remained behind. Gil was still there, leaning precariously against the railing at the back of the meeting room. He looked like he might slip and fall back at any moment, and Scott had to suppress a sudden urge to tell him to get away from there, like some overprotective mother hen.

“Was it? I was going for heartfelt, but I’ll take inspiring any day.”

“Oh definitely. It could’ve used a little group huddle and a _hip-hip hurray_ at the end, but other than that, perfectly inspiring” he said in a completely straight face.

Scott raised an eyebrow in question. “That bad?” he asked, starting to get a little concerned now. Had he overdone it? He'd honestly just said what he'd felt.

Gil huffed a chuckling breath through his nose and his serious face faded away in an instant, replaced by genuine amusement and a brilliant smile. It made Scott’s head spin a little and his worry faded as quickly as it had formed. Teasing, of course. Damn the man looked good when he smiled.

“I’m just kidding Ryder, it actually was quite good. You seemed to pick up on the mood in the room and that little spiel at the end definitely helped turn it around.”

“Spiel?” he asked, getting confused again. Was this more teasing or…

“You know, that little bit at the end. Your _promise_ that _it will all work out?_ ”

“Yea... what do you mean by _spiel_ though?”

“I mean, it was just added flair, right? Putting on a brave face for the team? You don’t actually believe that.”

 _Ah, that’s what he means,_ Scott thought, and he smiled in return. “Of course I believe it Gil,” he said.

 The engineer tilted his head as if genuinely puzzled at that response.

"You do?"

"Yea... One hundred percent."

“But… how do you know? We have nothing to go on at the moment, no real game plan here,” he said, sounding incredulous and… intrigued? “All we know is we need to take care of the Kett, and find a location suitable for an outpost despite the deadly storms and radiation, but no clue how.”

Scott shrugged. “Doesn’t matter Gil. We’ll make it happen because we **have to**. There’s too much at stake here, so there’s no other option.”

“So do or die, is it?”

“Kinda. I don’t plan on dying or letting anyone here die though, so it’s just… **do** , I guess.”

Gil narrowed his eyes and leaned forward from the railing as if to see better from a distance, studying Scott’s face and eyes intensely. He must’ve not been able to see what he wanted though because he quickly pushed himself off from the railing – thankfully no longer in danger of falling over it – then quickly closed the distance between them with a few strides. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face stopped no more than ten inches away from Scott’s. Scott instinctively pulled his head back a little at the sudden invasion of personal space, but Gil continued to look at him for a few more seconds, as if searching for something, eyes moving around, never resting in one place. It was a little odd. He felt like he was being placed under a high-end microscope and examined for contaminants.

“Huh,” Gil exclaimed in the end and pulled back, then moved to the other side of the table. “You actually mean that. Fair enough,” he said and nodded appreciatively. “That’s actually quite reassuring. I mean it makes no sense, but it is.”

“Glad to hear it” Ryder said, feeling way more confident in the steadiness of his voice now that the distance between them was a little greater. “Was there anything else you wanted?”

“There was actually” Gil replied, pushing a finger against his lips and staring down at the floor in contemplation. “To do with the radiation and the sandstorms and getting around… Something’s bothering me about all that.”

“Please share” Scott said and made a gesture with one hand.

“The Initiative team got to Eos, and set up Site 1, right?”

“Yea…”

“Then they abandoned it when it was no longer viable and moved over to Site 2, right?”

“Yea…” Scott repeated again, unsure of what the man was getting at.

“So, if the storms and the radiation were that much of an issue, how did they have enough time to scout out a better location for Site 2? Especially seeing as there was no communication or aid from the Nexus.”

Scott thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “They might’ve used shuttles.”

“It’s possible, but unlikely. Standard issue Initiative shuttles have radiation shielding but they wouldn't make it through the storms - if they're as bad as Tann was saying. If they used shuttles they’d be risking their only way of evacuating just to scout. I don’t think they’d have taken that chance.”

“Maybe they got lucky with finding the location then? From what I hear Site 2 wasn’t **that** far away from Site 1.”

“Hmm… maybe. Or maybe, they had another way of getting around.”

“Such as?”

“Well I’m not entirely – “ Gil started, but then his Omnitool began beeping incessantly. “Shit, I have to head back to Engineering asap.”

“Everything ok with the ship?”

“Kallo says we’re being trailed by a Scourge tendril and the drive core needs recalibrating if we’re going to outmanoeuvre it. But if I get down there quickly, we should be fine. Sorry Pathfinder.”

“What you were saying about Eos –”

“Look, it’s just a eild guess at the moment. Just… look for big containers when you get down there, like something that could possibly contain a _vehicle_. If you see one just open it and you’ll know if it’s there” he finished then ran down the ramp.

“Alright…” Scott muttered to himself, then heard the doors of the Research Center open and close behind Gil.

A container large enough to contain a vehicle… What vehicle? A shuttle? Gil said those wouldn’t do for scouting and they weren’t typically stored in containers anyway.

A wild guess… Well something like that would probably stand out so it'd be good to keep it in mind. Not his mind but...

“SAM, did you catch that?”

[“Yes, Pathfinder. I will keep a lookout for containers large enough to store vehicles and notify you as soon as one is detected.”]

“Sounds good.”

He didn’t have much time to dedicate brainpower to that right now. It was time to hunker down and get ready for the biggest mission he’d ever undertaken, his first mission as Pathfinder and the first test of his and the rest of the team’s mettle. The list of things he had to do was long and he ran it through his head once again:

  * Read through the Kett attack reports.
  * Watch the combat action vid logs that SAM had captured from their first encounter on Habitat 7. This included his dad’s combat logs as he was particularly interested in how he’d handled those dozen Kett all on his own.
  * Understand the Kett classifications.
  * Discuss with Liam, Cora and Vetra about combat tactics and how they would divvy up the tasks of protecting the Tempest vs. going on planet-side recon.
  * Prepare an assault rifle now that they expected heavily armed hostiles;
  * Calibrate the visor on his new helmet and make sure this one wouldn’t crack so easily as the first. There’d be no coming back if he got a faceful of radiation.
  * Eat enough to make sure he had enough energy to use his biotics.
  * Fix the dent on his armor's shoulder plate that the invisible beast had left when he'd interecepted the attack on his father on Habitat 7
  * Give SAM some time to walk him through these _Profiles_ that he’d mentioned aboard the Hyperion.



Everything had to be done of course, but the last two were arguably by far the most important ones of the lot. His food had to be nutritious and calorie-heavy but not heavy in his stomach, because fighting when bloated was a bad, bad idea – especially given how much he used the Charge. This probably meant he’d have to wolf down pack after pack of protein sludge, which he was not looking forward to, at all.

But the _Profiles_ he was genuinely excited for. He was always looking for ways to be more efficient in combat, and from what little he’d seen of the Kett in Habitat 7 he’d need to be at the top of his game. He was genuinely curious to see how SAM’s _unrestrained access to his physiology_ could work for him when fighting. Could he enhance Biotic abilities? Would it work to complement his existing skills or would Scott need to adapt how he fought to work around them? Regardless, he was going to leave it til’ the last half hour, and discuss with SAM what effects it could have. He could practice in the exercise room but  but he didn't want to get carried away and spend too much energy messing around and experimenting.

He took a deep breath, recounting all of the tasks in his head once more. As usual, the long list only seemed overwhelming until you broke it down. He’d get through the tasks one by one, then move on to the next. Simple, and clean. He turned his head and looked outside the window, taking in the stunning view.

Seeing the countless stars stretching out all around gave him an odd sense of serenity. He knew that what he’d told Gil had been nothing but the truth. It was the only truth he knew right now. It wouldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t be quick, but in the end, they’d make it happen. He was sure of it.

He slowly walked down the ramp, and the lights dimmed in the room behind him.

The world awaited.

“Here we come,” he whispered as the doors of the research center closed behind him and the lights switched off entirely, leaving the smooth surfaces illuminated by the dim glow of distant starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If an emergency comes up again and I can't finish a chapter on time I will leave a comment on my last chapter explaining the situation. So please check there if it's been ages and you're wondering what's happened: 
> 
> Note 1:  
> Thank you all so, SO much for following along, commenting, giving Kudos or letting me know you like this story. The last chapter got an almost overwhelming amount of feedback compared to the rest and I can't tell you how much of a difference it makes, knowing that people are enjoying this and following along. It also made me want to get to it as soon as possible, because I knew that a lot of folks enjoy this. As always, any and all feedback (including anything that might've been subpar) is very much welcome.
> 
> Note 2:  
> As you can probably tell, there's some setup for a familiar vehicle here. Gil acts like he knows everything about it when it's found in the game so it makes sense that he would know something about it beforehand. More on that next chapter.
> 
> Note 3:  
> I've been considering since this started whether I want to keep the chapters entirely single perspective or whether they might shift partway through. I'm still leaning on single persepctive for the most part, but the next chapter might benefit from a shift. We'll see.
> 
> Next up: Eos


	11. Eos Part I - Issues of power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew lands on Eos, where they have to deal with what's left behind after the Nexus' desperate attempt to survive.

“System: Pytheas. Andromeda Initiative Habitat 1. Designated **Eos** ” SAM said.

“It was supposed to be an easy first step – until no one else showed up and we got clobbered. Twice” said Kallo sheepishly, as Suvi was running calculations.

“Why has SAM altered frequency detection?” she asked.

Scott knew the AI must’ve picked up something the rest of them couldn’t.

“What are we hearing, SAM?”

“There is a signal, Pathfinder. We could see more from an immediate examination of Eos.”

“Kallo, take us closer, start orbiting Eos.”

“Roger that.”

The ship lurched forward, picking up speed as it moved closer to the planet. Scott looked at the display window anxiously as Eos came into full view. It looked barren from here, and even though they knew there were rad storms, there were no signs of deadly thunderbolts at least.

“Suvi, initiate planetary scans.”

“Initiating scans now.”

They were all holding their breath. All that could be heard on the bridge was the sound of the scanning equipment, visually accompanied by a round focus point on the display, as the ship orbited the planet and conducted the scans.

SAM broke the silence.

“A mirror of the signal on Habitat 7. Possible atmospheric manipulation.”

Scott was taken aback, and he wasn’t the only one.

“Is that possible?” asked Suvi.

“We’ll find out” he replied. His mind was racing a mile a minute. Atmospheric manipulation was what they’d encountered on the alien ruins on Habitat 7. No way this was a coincidence. There were so many implications to a connection between Habitat 7 and Habitat 1. Implications, and opportunities. “If it is like Habitat 7, that would also explain the Kett presence. Take us in Kallo” he added and moved toward the loadout station, Liam, Vetra and Cora nearby.

“Right, make sure you’ve got everything you need” he said as he grabbed hold of his M-8 assault rifle.

“Itching to make this happen” Liam replied.

“I hope the boys can shoot a gun,” Vetra teased, speaking to Cora.

“They might need a little babysitting but I’m sure they’ll do ok.”

Vetra smiled and Liam rolled his eyes. Scott grabbed hold of his new helmet under an arm, and nudged his right shoulder a bit. He’d replaced the shoulder plate that the _Wraith_ – as was now the invisible dog creature’s official name – had bitten into, but he couldn’t replace the entire chestplate on time, so he’d had to hammer it and bend it biotically back into shape, so that the shoulder plate could be clasped on. It had, but it still felt a little weird.

Those things were dangerous. He’d have to make sure to avoid them in the future.

SAM had informed him that he could help in that regard, during their C&T (combat & tactics) analysis. It wasn’t gonna be a perfect solution, but the AI had said he could analyze the shimmering movement patterns and vaguely highlight their outline on Scott’s HUD, as well as give him a verbal warning. So theoretically, as long as they were within Scott’s line of sight, they’d be able to see them coming.

The whole C&T process had been extremely useful. They’d already discussed how they’d handle the mission. Scott, Liam, Vetra and Cora would all disembark the Tempest together and secure Site 1. Then he, Liam and Vetra would leave for further recon, and Cora would remain behind to protect the Tempest and the rest of the crew, since she was by far the strongest of the four besides Scott himself.

C&T had also been finished much quicker than usual because they had an AI companion at hand. SAM had analyzed his hits on the Kett on Habitat 7, had retrieved visual and bone density data about their physiology from the scans, and had basically provided Scott with a map of weak points and hit zones that he and the team should aim for when fighting them. Moreover, he could highlight those areas through Scott’s actual eyesight, which would give him a serious edge in the heat of combat.

And then there were the _Profiles_. SAM could enhance various abilities and effects, both physical and Biotic, depending on what _Profile_ Scott asked him to load up. There wasn’t a lot of room to practice in the ship – and he’d even tried the exercise room – so he’d have to figure those out as they went along. He’d just loaded the Vanguard one for now. _An enhanced Charge and shields_ , SAM had said, and that was all Scott needed to hear.

“Everyone ready?”

Vetra was checking her own weapon. “Almost, I’ll see you on the ramp”.

“Ready Freddy”, Liam joked.

“Same here” said Cora.

Scott walked up to the front of the bridge, assault rifle in hand and helmet on.

“Kallo. Alright?”

“Integrating search area from SAM. How he pulled that signal through the radiation storms, I have no idea.”

Suvi was checking the display in front of her and seemed just as impressed by SAM’s feat. “Multi-sensory neural collation. Amazing.”

“Factory fresh across the board” came Gil’s voice over the comms. “Spinning up the compensators.”

“You’re already tuning the displays?” Kallo asked, turning to Suvi.

“We’ll get a better reading on this pass than the Nexus has had in months.”

As she spoke, the ship cleared the top side of Eos, and the light from Pytheas’ local sun shone through like a sunrise over the sea’s horizon. It was bright and blinding, and Scott raised a hand to shade his eyes from direct exposure. The view was beautiful, and for a moment the world was still.

But then… something…

Sound. At the back of his mind, like a whisper in some unknown language, like someone calling to him in an alien tongue. What were they saying?

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I said,” came a voice and Scott was startled to see Liam right next to him, “a lot of people have their hopes pinned on us. They gave up on Eos”. Scott hadn’t even noticed him approach. Odd. That whisper must’ve been Liam then… He was now staring out the window too with a solemn expression. “Can’t blame them. Expected a Golden World, instead they saw their friends die. Never know how that will affect someone…” he paused, and turned to look at Scott with an apologetic expression. “Sorry… You ok?”

Scott was puzzled at the question at first, but then he understood. His father. He considered the question for a moment. How should he reply to that?

 _I’m still feeling dad’s loss_? Scott wasn’t entirely sure if he was ok or not, but he was sure that this wasn’t the time to go into that.

 _It’s my job as new Pathfinder?_ That was true, but it would imply that this was a chore for him, something he was doing because he was forced to, rather than a combination of _had to_ and also _wanted to_.

 _I’m up for the adventure?_ That would imply that he saw this like a nice cool adventure he was going on, rather than the high-stakes mission that it was, one which required every bit of focus and care that he could muster.

Like he’d told Gil, there was only one option he saw in front of him. A way through this. A way to make it happen.

“I’m good. And the uncertainty ends with us. We didn’t come millions of light years to die in a different place. I won’t let the Initiative down. I won’t let _our people_ , down.”

Liam took on a determined and resolute expression and nodded, to show he was on board with that, as Kallo spoke up again.

“Pathfinder, the Tempest checks out. We’re good.”

Scott nodded back to Liam and turned to the display window, his face lit by the light of the star.

“Take us down” he said quietly, and Suvi smiled.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted a Pathfinder to say that.”

The seconds turned to minutes as the ship picked up speed once again, now heading directly towards the planet’s surface, ready for atmospheric entry.

“Core is hot” said Gil over the comms.

“Shields holding, adjusting entry” said Kallo.

“We got this,” Ryder reaffirmed to himself more than anyone else.

_Right?_

The outside that had turned orange from the heat of re-entry suddenly dissipated, as the ship entered the upper layers of atmosphere and gave a sudden and violent lurch, followed by a little curse from Suvi. A little turbulent, but all was good for now.

“There!” said Scott pointing to the map. “Set us down at this navpoint.”

The pilot did as he was told and Scott headed off toward the back of the ship and the exit ramp.

It was showtime.

The others were already there, and he nodded as he approached, then put on his helmet, fastened it in place and triggered the vacuum seal that completed the armor’s environmental hazard protection, before turning on the HUD display. The ramp was slowly lowered and Scott tried to adjust to his new visual range. The visor on this helmet was smaller than his other one, which meant his field of vision was less wide, but it also meant it would be less prone to cracking, which as Habitat 7 had proven, was quite important.

The ramp stopped and the four of them walked down it and out into the open air, glancing over their landing site and the planet they wanted to make into a home.

It was quite something.

Scott’s earlier impression of the planet’s surface had been somewhat correct. It was pretty barren, but not in the way that the lightning ravaged surface of Habitat 7 was. This reminded him more of… a desert climate. The soil had a brownish-red hue and was mostly sand, which was dried up in places and made large cracks like little ravines. Plant life was scarce, but present, dotting the landscape of what remained of Site 1, _Promise_. Initiative buildings were scattered here and there, shining silver and red due to the thin layer of sand that covered their roofs, probably blown up there by the storms.

The radiation shielding looked worn down and decrepit, like cloth that had been eaten by moths. But since SAM hadn’t indicated an impact on his suit’s own life support, that meant it was still functional. They were safe in here for now, just like Tann had said.

All in all it made for a rather eerie sight. It had only been a few months since the site was abandoned, which made it look empty and void of life, but not quite old and worn down enough to look the part. It was like the inhabitants had all just up and vanished one day and this was all that was left to tell their story. Which thanks to the Kett and the radiation storms, had more or less been the case.

“Where to even start?” Liam exclaimed.

“Reports state that this planet suffers deadly storms that are contaminated by radiation from the Scourge,” SAM informed them. “Eos deployment was incomplete due to environmental hazards, and ultimately, hostile encounters.”

“Plus, no Pathfinder,” Scott added. His mind was now firing on all cylinders. “SAM mentioned that the signal we scanned is connected with the atmosphere.” He pointed out towards the second tallest building in the area, the only thing larger being a round, ring-like structure. “We can use the outpost’s antenna to track it down.”

“And how do we get to it?” Liam inquired.

A good question.

“One thing at a time. Let’s get the power back on. And stay on guard.”

He had his assault rifle at the ready, as the four of them approached the buildings near the main outpost area. Seeing them from up close actually made it obvious that the buildings hadn’t fared as well as he’d thought before. The sand had snuck itself in every little nook and cranny and had also worn down the material a little, with scratches and paint peeling off here and there.

“They must’ve known these wouldn’t last long in these conditions” he said as he peeled off a small chip of paint that was hanging off the side of one of the buildings.

“Said it yourself, they didn’t have a Pathfinder,” Vetra added.

“They do now.”

They came across a long bunker building, and Scott tried interacting with the unlock mechanism on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

“It’s inoperable” said SAM.

 _No shit,_ he wanted to reply but refrained. “Too long in this environment without power,” he said.

Vetra walked over and looked at it, then shook her head. “Standard equipment, that’s all we had to give them.”

They moved towards the place that was pinpointed on Scott’s HUD, checking this and that building on the way. All locked, all inoperable. The most impressive one among these was that giant _ring_ structure, which was located right next to a little pond. It looked all twisted and not that far from toppling over, but was impressive nonetheless. SAM informed them that it was used for purifying water, but had apparently been mangled by the storms.

They made a quick detour to take a look around the _water purification_ structure. There was a weird kind of tree there that Scott had never seen before, with a large round trunk at the bottom and a smaller round trunk at the top. It looked like a snowman made of wood. He scanned it and uploaded the data.

“Hmmm, that is surprisingly old. And large…” came Suvi’s voice after a few seconds. Scott wondered what had caught her eye.

“The tree?”

“Oh” she said, sounding a little surprised, as if caught off guard. “Yes, the tree; but never mind, I was thinking out loud.”

“Ok…”  he shrugged. Must’ve been something to do with the data she was collecting for the science team.

Besides the ring structure and the tree, there was also a small deposit of fluorite nearby but other than that the water pond was unremarkable. They were about to walk away from it and back toward the power source, when Scott caught a glint of something behind a bunch of those weird trees. He turned and began moving toward it. Was that…

“There’s a shuttle over here” he said as he walked towards it, Cora right next to him, Liam and Vetra close behind.

“It’s Initiative” Cora said pointing at the Initiative mark on the side.

Scott examined it closely. No obvious scratch marks, no wear-and-tear on the edges, no sand in the crevices… “No way this has been here long.” He scanned it.

A couple seconds later Kallo’s voice came through the comms.

“Uhmmm… Going by call-sign records, that shuttle is currently parked in the Nexus. Someone’s been naughty.”

“Huh…”

That was… interesting. And also a little alarming. Someone else had clearly arrived here rather recently, but why? What could Eos possibly have to offer to someone from the Nexus? They’d done it in secret which meant they didn’t want people to know they were here. More mutineers, perhaps? Or maybe it was under Tann or Addison’s orders, and done in secret. But no, that made no sense. Either of them would’ve known that the Pathfinder team would figure that out. He was getting paranoid...

“Let’s move on. Keep an eye out for anything or anyone suspicious,” he said and the four of them kept walking, senses alert and vigilant.

*

 Turns out the power source was one of two generators. Scott scanned it, looking for an input.

“The generators appear to have been disabled. Controls have been overridden” SAM informed him.

“How is that possible?” he asked, starting to get annoyed. Did every little thing have to be an obstacle in their way?

“It would only be doable if someone had access to the control center and the power relay.”

Scott looked toward the tall building with the antenna.

“You mean someone was in there?”

“They probably still are,” SAM corrected.

Scott was unsure, but SAM wasn’t usually wrong about this kind of thing. He broke into a jog and reached the upper floor quickly, climbing up the stairs two at a time. The door was locked, but unlike the others it had power. He tapped his Omnitool and activated the intercom system outside the building, sending a communication request through, half-expecting to receive no reply.

The intercom buzzed.

“Huh… Guess that ship wasn’t Kett then. They don’t knock” came a grumpy voice.

He was shortly taken aback. SAM was right, someone was in there! “There are people here? We thought everyone left was gone” he exclaimed.

“Course you did. Now shove off, find your own salvage. This spot’s taken.”

Ah, salvage, of course. The shuttle made sense now, seeming almost too obvious an answer.

Maybe if he asked nicely, they’d let him in. Fat chance, but there was no harm in trying.

“I’m not a salvager, I’m a Pathfinder” he replied, trying to sound convincing. “We’ve come to fix all this. Who are you?”

“You can call me Clancy. Pathfinder huh? Like that changes much. The Nexus just can’t let Eos go, can it? However much it fails down here.”

“I’m tracking a signal that might help Eos. I only need power for the antenna.”

“Look, I cut the power for a reason. The Kett are patrolling today. You turn the power relay back on, they’ll know there’s a juicy target alive down here.”

Scott looked behind him and raised an eyebrow in a silent question to the other three, as to whether they would mind engaging. If the Kett were going to come to them, it would be easy set up for a trap.

The affirmative nod from all three told him all he needed to know. He turned back to the intercom.

“Help me with the power relay and I’ll take care of the Kett.”

It took a few seconds for _Clancy_ to reply, and Scott was considering whether he should’ve said more to convince him. In the end he didn’t have to.

“You’re crazy… though maybe it’s a good crazy” he acquiesced. “Ok, I’ll enable the generators out there. You want to poke the tiger, it’s on you.”

“Thanks,” Scott said then turned to the team. “Expect trouble when we start the generators. We’ve got the element of surprise here, so take up positions wherever you feel you have the most cover from.”

“So how do we spring the trap?” asked Cora as they walked up to the first generator. Scott activated his Omnitool, then tapped a few commands to connect it to the generator’s interface remotely, then moving on to the second one.

“We’ll have visual contact before they do, so we’ll have to communicate between us. But keep quiet.”

“So we split across the area?” asked Liam taking a good look around.

“Yes, but stick relatively close. Whatever position you choose, make sure you’ve got a visual of everyone else. We don’t want to be spread too thin and get picked apart, we wanna ambush them and strike from as many sides as possible. But it will depend on their formation and where they come in from.”

“And the Tempest?”

“If it’s just patrols around the area they won’t have enough firepower to attack the ship directly, and if they move towards it we can attack ground troops much easier. Plus, I don’t think they’ll be expecting a fully armed and trained crew.”

“And we could also provide you with visual info from up here” said Gil over the comms.

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Scott said. “Kallo, do you have a clear visual from the cockpit?”

“Yep, we can see pretty much all of Site 1 from here.”

“Good. Guys, spread out,” he said to the other three. “Let me know once you’re in position and I’ll activate the generator, then hide behind cover myself. It’ll probably be a minute or two before the Kett arrive.”

Liam, Vetra and Cora did as they were told, taking up positions on Scott’s six, three, and nine respectively, keeping a good distance from each other, but within visual and shot range.

“Everyone good?”

“All set” Vetra replied, and Liam gave a thumbs-up as Cora confirmed with a quick “Yes”.

“Tempest, have you got a visual on all of us?”

“Affirmative” came Kallo’s voice in reply.

“Here goes!” He activated the start-up sequence. The generator next to him and the one in the distance whirred to life loudly, and Scott ran to take cover behind two crates a little further. They’d been placed next to each other corner to corner, which made a nice little indent for him to hide in, while still allowing him to see through a narrow slit between them.

It was a good thing he’d hidden quickly, because it wasn’t two minutes until the Kett arrived, but more like 30 seconds. They must’ve been very close.

The sound of a dropship drew closer and closer, and they saw it pass overhead, hovering over a wide open area near a smaller building on top of a hill, that (in hindsight) worked well as a landing zone and gave them a good vantage point down toward the Site 1 buildings. More importantly, the hill was right next to the Tempest. They had to be careful.

“Here’s our company Tempest. I see one unit on your nine” Scott said in a hushed tone, peeking through the narrow slit between the crates. The Kett had disembarked and he could hear them shouting orders. “Can you confirm visual targets?”

“One dropship, on our nine affirmative. It’s only dropped off one unit, six members, all heavily armed. They’re splitting into two groups of three and three. Three headed your way Ryder. Three headed toward us”.

Maybe underestimating their curiosity about the Tempest was a bad idea. “Ok we –“

“Hold on, the three headed toward us have split. Two are actually headed our way, and one is taking cover on top of the hill.”

“Ryder, the one on the hill is armed with a very long-barreled gun, that looks like it has a scope on it” Gil added. “I think he’s a sharpshooter.”

“Ok, thanks” Scott said, surprised that the engineer could discern that kind of detail from that distance. “Cora are you ok to take the two headed for the Tempest?”

“Sure am,” Cora replied confidently. Not that there was any doubt.

“The three headed your way are fanning out” Kallo informed them. “You have about sixty seconds before they reach you.”

“Ok, quick game plan” Scott began, and started counting in his head, his back now leaning against one of the crates. “Cora, on my signal come out of cover on the left side, throw up a barrier, and try and Charge towards the two headed for the Tempest. I’ll come out at the same time on the right and head for the hill to try and take out the sharpshooter. Liam and Vetra, come up four seconds after us and take down the three coming our way. They should be preoccupied with shooting at me and Cora so should be easy pickings. Everyone ready?”

Liam confirmed first, followed by Cora and Vetra. They practically had to whisper at this point but their voices came through.

“Ready.”

“Copy that.”

“All set.”

About ten more seconds…

The Kett drew closer. They were near enough now that he could hear their footsteps, crunching in the sand as they moved toward the four of them. He was ready to give the signal, and turned to take a quick look through the crates.

Thanks to his eternally bad luck, one of the Kett was looking his way. It noticed movement at the same time as Scott noticed it looking.

“NOW!” he yelled, and at the same time the Kett started shouting to his teammates and shooting at the crates where Scott had hidden.

He shot up and took off on the right, immediately throwing up a barrier. He’d given off his position like an idiot, so all three of the Kett had locked on to him instead of being confused by Cora going in the opposite direction. The barrier held and Scott spotted the sharpshooter, but he was a way too far for the Charge to hit him and he couldn’t stop to throw something else or shoot. He was sprinting as fast as he could, trying to close the distance enough to get an effective Charge in but the barrier was weakening and wasn’t gonna last much longer. A couple more shots and it’d go down…

He heard a whoosh and saw a blue streak out of the corner of his eye which meant Cora was off. He was still running as he heard cries from his left, and the hail of gunfire on his barrier stopped, meaning the others had done their part. He could see the sharpshooter now. All he needed was a few more feet and he’d smash his…

**_BOOM!_ **

A loud bang came from the top of the hill, sounding almost like a cannon firing off, followed by an even louder one of metal meeting metal. He groaned in pain as something heavy and weighted struck him on the upper left side of the chest, and he lost his momentum as he was pushed back from the impact, his ears ringing from the shot that had hit him.

It had gone right through his weakened barrier and had discharged all of his shield capacity in one hit. Thankfully the accumulated resistance of the two defenses must’ve weakened the bullet enough to prevent it from causing fatal damage, but he could tell that it had dented his armor. He had no idea what that weapon was, but that was some serious firepower. He heard muffled cries and yells of _“Scott” and “Ryder” and “shit”_ but there was no time to speak or think. He had to act, _now_ , cos the sharpshooter clearly had him in his sights.

But so did Scott.

He aimed, and Charged.

**_BOOM!_ **

Another shot went off, right where he’d been standing, but Scott was already gone. The distance was still sub-optimal, so he hadn’t really expected to land a hit. He’d planned to quickly move from his position with the charge to avoid getting shot, then reach the end of the move and stumble forward onto the sharpshooter. He’d pull him down with the momentum, then beat his face in.

But that… didn’t happen. As soon as he initiated the movement, he could tell something was very different. He rushed through space in a way-too-quick flash, and his mind went into a momentary panic.

It was too much! The charge had too much force! He tried adjusting midway through to form a fist and punch with the momentum of the move since he’d definitely cover the distance, but couldn’t quite make it in time. His arm was partially extended out and it caught the Kett right under the jaw as it propped its head up after the second shot, in a kind of accidental _clothesline_ move, smacking it down to the ground while he himself stumbled and fell forward, trying to roll with the momentum, the assault rifle flying out of his hand.  
  
He came to a stop a few feet further, grunting with the effort of regaining his bearings and trying to recover quickly since he knew the thing wasn’t dead.

He pushed himself up and looked around groggily. The Kett was on all fours trying to put one knee down to stand, and Scott spotted his assault rifle.

He raised his glowing hand and made a pull field to bring it back to him. It hurt like a motherfucker, probably because he had only partly hit the Kett, and partly smashed his forearm against the armor that protected its throat and lower body from damage. Thankfully the hit had had so much speed and force that the thing was partially stunned, stumbling around for its own weapon, but Scott didn’t give it the chance.

The assault rifle flew into his grip with a snap and he aimed at the Kett's head then squeezed the trigger, ignoring the pain in his arm. Green blood sprayed out the other side, and it fell on the ground with a thud.

He breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon then sat down with his back against a cover point, taking in a few deep breaths, the sound heavy and labored through his helmet’s oxygen filter. He had an urge to take it off and get some fresh air, then had to remind himself where he was. Probably a bad idea.

“Ryder, are you ok?” came Gil’s voice over the comms.

“Whew!” Scott replied, taking another few deep breaths. The ordeal had taken his adrenaline to a whole other level. “m’ fine, just need to calm down for a second.”

He heard what sounded like a sigh of relief at the same time as Cora appeared over the ridge, quickly followed by Liam and Vetra.

“What happened, are you hurt?” she asked and kneeled beside him, looking at the dent on his chestplate.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Vetra offered a hand to help him up and he looked at it for a moment then took it gratefully, with his non-painful arm, standing upright. He moved the other one around and flexed his fingers, trying to see if there was any damage. Didn’t feel like it.

“Mate, what happened?” Liam asked.

“I’m not… entirely sure.” Scott said, puzzled. He was trying to replay the event in his mind. “SAM?”

“The effect of your miscalculated force and distance is most likely related to the profile you asked me to load in advance. The active profile is _Vanguard_.”

“Oh, right…” Scott said sheepishly.

“And a _profile_ is…” Liam prompted.

“It’s how SAM enhances what I can do. He told me what it did, and it worked as expected.” he said and flexed his fingers again. “I uh… I just didn’t realize the boost would be so efficient.”

“You and him both” Liam said and pointed to the dead Kett off in the corner. “Can’t say it wasn’t effective.”

“It was way more power than I was expecting, but it worked out. How did you guys get on?”

“Took those bastards out without a hitch, plan was solid.”

“Cora?”

“They’re taken care of, don’t worry. You kinda made it easy since you took all the fire Ryder. Always stealing the spotlight” she joked, then pointed to the large dent on his chest plate. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Nothing a little medigel won’t cure” he said.

“I’d like to be the judge of that, thank you” came the voice of a rather serious-sounding Lexi, and Liam mouthed a silent _oh shit_ , probably for the grilling Scott was about to get. “SAM, brief status report?”

“The Pathfinder needs to authorize the share of diagnostics data, Dr. T’Perro.”

“Scott?” said Lexi, in a tone that clearly brooked no argument. He could imagine her expression. Raised eyebrow and a face that said, _I dare you to say no._ He did not, dare.

“Go ahead SAM.”

“The impact has caused some very mild swelling that will likely bruise, but can in fact be treated with Medigel” stated the AI. _Like I said,_ Scott added stubbornly. “There is no structural or nerve damage to the Pathfinder’s body at this time.”

“Good” said Lexi, “I’ll need a full diagnostic report from you at the end of the mission.”

“Yes, Dr. T’Perro. The power relay station is ready for activation Pathfinder.”

“Let’s do it then.”

They all headed off, back towards the building where Clancy was holed up with the power relay. All things told, that encounter went well. Like Liam had said, the plan was solid. The only hitch came from Scott’s two fuckups, the first one being spotted, and second the miscalculated force behind that Charge.

That Charge… Holy shit. He’d downplayed it cos’ he didn’t want the others to start worrying about SAM’s effect again but **damn**. That had been more than he could handle, and could’ve gone badly very easily. Being Scott’s favorite and most-used move, he knew his Charge capabilities like the back of his hand. This new Charge could probably cover twice as much distance with twice the force now that SAM had done his thing. If he’d put all of that power into a proper strike it would hit like a bullet-train.

But there was a valuable lesson in there too. The Profiles enhancement was good – great even – but it would take some serious adjustment to get used to. He’d need to be wary of possibly a larger area of effect, faster projectile speeds, enhanced destructive force and so on. He’d gotten so used to using his biotics at his own pace that this was almost like he was in training again. Back then his abilities had developed slowly and painstakingly through many, **many** days, weeks and months of training. He’d had to practice the same thing, over and over, tweaking, adjusting just a little bit, seeing the result, seeing it fail in unexpected ways or fizz out completely, then do it again and again until he found the right balance. 

Even the gestures played a big role. One finger out of place might have a completely different effect to the outcome of a specific move, the direction it went off or where he wanted it to land. Biotics had almost become part of him, part of the way he thought of himself and his limbs, like an extension of his body.

This sudden _boost_ in power was a very… alien, feeling. And probably somewhat reckless.

The Charge felt like it had been suddenly cranked up to eleven, out of nowhere. It was very… different. Unknown. It was no longer that intimate part of his combat skills that he knew so well. It was something bigger and stronger and a little terrifying, in that it he'd almost felt like he'd been overwhelmed.

He had to be responsible here. A mishap with biotics could be devastating to himself and his team just as much as to the enemy. This mission was too important to use as a field test. Part of being at his best meant having the precision to execute his intended maneuvers correctly. So…

“Hey SAM?”

“Yes, Pathfinder?”

“Disable the Vanguard profile please.”

“As you wish. Would you like me to enable another in its place? Perhaps a physical enhancement?”

“Uh… No. Leave them disabled for now.”

It was tempting in a ‘ _what harm would a little bit of extra stamina or speed cause’_ kind of way, but in the end it was still a risk. The thing that made him confident in combat was knowing his body’s capabilities inside and out, and how to use it to his advantage. How much weight he could push, how much he could pull, how fast he could run, how fast he could swim, how fast he could climb, with what force he could strike, and so on. So even a seemingly small physical enhancement would feel out of place and could impede his judgment at a critical moment.

He’d just have to go through and try the effects out one by one with SAM’s help, so he could get used to the enhancements. Later, when it didn’t mean life or death for thousands of people if he messed it up.

*

They were skirting the periphery of the radiation shielding, keeping just within its borders, and Scott looked outwards. The site was in a slanted valley so he couldn’t see very far, but even if he could he still had no idea how they’d scout further.

“Hold on a sec” he said to the others as he approached the border, visible by a soft blue light that linked two shielding pylons together.

“What are you doing Ryder?” Cora asked.

“We need to find out how intense radiation is out there” he said and took on a ready stance, leaning forward a little like a sprinter ready to break into a run.

Cora didn’t look convinced. Neither did Liam. “That sounds like a bad idea,” he said and she nodded. “Maybe SAM can get a reading?”

“I have no sensor equipment to provide me with input outside of the safe zone. If the Pathfinder wishes to find out the radiation levels, this is the best way of doing it. Assuming he re-enters the zone immediately the risk should be negligible, as his life support protection will cover any small exposure.”

“You heard him” Ryder said nonchalantly. Unlike the Profiles thing this wasn’t recklessness, he knew what he was doing. He’d have to be quick. Jump jet out, jump jet in.

The whooshing sound filled the air as his jump jet propelled him forward and outside the safe zone, crossing the shielding and going outside into the real conditions of the surface of Eos. The first thing he felt was pressure, heavy and intense, as if gravity itself had been amplified outside the border. The readings on his visor turned red, indicating a drain on his armor’s life support function. But he didn’t give it time to run out, and instead activated his jump jet the other way, throwing himself right back in through the shielding. As the pressure vanished, his body felt lighter again, and he lost his balance a little, stumbling to the side. Vetra’s strong hand clasped onto his arm and held him up.

“Steady now” she teased.

“Thanks. That was… weird. SAM, what do we have?”

“Radiation recorded at 52.386 mSv per hour” said the AI, as a sharp intake of breath was heard over the comms.

“Wow, that is very high,” said Suvi.

“Correct, it is far more than the human body can handle.”

Scott frowned. “Sounds bad.”

“It’s incredibly bad Ryder,” Suvi confirmed. “For reference, in the few instances where a nuclear power plant has gone into meltdown on Earth, the people in surrounding areas had been exposed to a dose of roughly 10.000 mSv per hour. Most of them died within days.”

“Well, scouting by relying on our suits’ life support is a no go” Ryder confirmed.

“Affirmative. This is considered a Level 3 hazard, with risk of imminent death within minutes of life support failure” SAM stated.

Scott had realized that was the case as soon as he’d stepped out of the safe zone. The life support gauge had been drained in less than two seconds. He watched it slowly recover on his helmet’s heads-up display. It was worth a try, and they now knew exactly what they were dealing with.

They kept walking along the perimeter until they reached the power relay building again. This time the door of the top floor was unlocked. Scott put a hand and twisted it around. It opened with the familiar wheeze sound, and the four of them walked in, stopping a few feet away from a man he could only assume was that _Clancy_ guy.

“You weren’t kidding about the Kett” he said.

“You guys took them all out?” the man asked, looking at the four of them and sounding incredulous, then raising his hands in a gesture of _pass._ “Sure, use the power relay. Hell, take whatever you like.”

Scott looked him up and down, trying to size him up. He seemed relatively young, possibly a little over Scott’s age with black hair, brown eyes and a short nose and puffy lips. Pretty standard nondescript features.

He was technically a smuggler and had stolen an Initiative shuttle to make some extra bank, so Scott had a brief urge to turn him in – probably owning to his days at the Arcturus station – but he dismissed it. That wasn’t what they were there to do. Still…

 “So Clancy, you’re an illicit salvager, pilfering Nexus property on Eos” he stated matter-of-factly. The man’s eyes widened and he went a little pale, eyes darting around to the three heavily-armed people behind Scott, probably judging whether he could make a run for it. He seemed to think better of it. Wise.

“Are you… gonna turn me in?” he asked.

“No. But I suggest you get somewhere safe. And I _strongly suggest_ that you avoid doing this kind of thing in the future.”

The man seemed genuinely relieved. “Thanks, Pathfinder. I will.”

“Do I have your word?” Scott asked and thought he heard Vetra scoff in the background.

“Yes sir” Clancy nodded. He seemed like he meant it. “Word of advice in return: If that signal of yours is outside the perimeter, you’ll need a ride.”

“A ride?”

“Shuttles aren’t fun in these winds and radiation. You’ll need wheels. I think they keep a little something in storage.”

Scott remembered the conversation he’d had with Gil earlier. A _vehicle._

“Didn’t get around to salvaging it yet?”

“I tried” Clancy admitted. “It ain’t that simple. Might be easier for a Pathfinder though.”

“We’ll look around.”

“I’ll head to the shuttle. Keep this up, maybe next time there’ll be more than salvage around here.”

Scott nodded. “Take care, Clancy.”

“You too, Pathfinder.”

And with that, they parted ways. The four of them walked toward the outpost’s power controls terminal, as Clancy went the other way towards the shuttle.

Scott connected to the Terminal via his Omnitool. He caught Vetra’s appraising gaze out the corner of his eye.

“Really, you’ll take a smuggler on his word?” she teased.

“You’d be surprised how people respond when someone believes in them.”

“I doubt it, but your call” she shrugged.

He punched in the access code. A confirmation came up on screen. That was it, job done, plain and simple. Well, simple _minus the Kett_.

“Power restored” he said. “We should have access to everything in Site 1 now, right SAM?”

“Correct. Plus I’ve located the source of the signal we detected from orbit. It’s coming from the alien structure just beyond Site 1. The structure appears almost identical to the one your father used to adjust the atmosphere on the previous planet. It’s worth investigation.”

So he’d been right, it wasn’t a coincidence.

“That’s basically the only lead we have, so definitely worth investigation.”

“As you are aware radiation levels beyond Site 1 are well above acceptable limits. You will need additional protection.”

“That vehicle might help. Let’s have a look around.”

“Now that power is restored, you can investigate all nearby buildings.”

“Let’s do it.”

They started with the lower floor of the building they were already in, entering through the door which now opened as if it’d never been locked.

 The scene that greeted them was unnerving. The inside was only partially lit and Scott’s flashlight turned on automatically, shining a light on the chaotic vision. Chairs upturned, papers on the floor, loose cables haphazardly thrown around, furniture turned to the side, and signs of what looked like old, crusted blood on the ground. “If walls could talk…” he said. It made his hair stand on edge.

“Actually,” SAM replied, “with enough sensory data I might be able to reconstruct an image of the past.

“You can?”

“Normally it would be impossible, but since this is an Initiative building I have access to a multitude of sensors and arrays. Please use the scanner.”

“Let’s give it a shot” Scott said and raised up his Omnitool, activating his scanner. As the orange glow highlighted the area, two figures standing next to each other started to take shape.

“Holy shit, it works!” Liam exclaimed.

“Compiling audio now” SAM added. They all fell silent as the two figures began to move and speak.

_“We can’t survive another attack. The storms and radiation were already killing us, now we’ve got those… things!”_

_“We can’t go back with our tails between our legs. The whole station is counting on us.”_

_“Then they’re counting on corpses.”_

The audio finished, leaving the two figures standing there and the rest of them in silence. None of them said anything as a somber mood started to fall on the room.

Scott noticed a datapad in active suspension and a terminal nearby. He examined the datapad first. It contained a code-lock key, apparently for the nearby _storage_. Not very secure, but he wouldn’t complain. He accessed the terminal next. The only thing stored on it was one audio and one text log. He activated the audio one first.

 _“We suffered our first death today”_ came a woman’s voice through the speakers. _“Storm came out of nowhere. Lockley tried to cover our crops. Lost his footing. Got swept away. His wife is still in cryo. Maybe by the time they wake her up, I’ll know what to say._ ”

Scott’s heart clenched at the words. He felt like he should say something, as Pathfinder. But what? The silence was deafening, the weight of the words and the gravity of the situation almost tangibly oppressive on the group’s consciousness, as the implications of their mission sank in, more and more by the second.

What could one say if they had to live through the loss of their loved ones from things beyond their control? What could you say if you knew that you had to be the one to break it to their family and watch the grief strike their faces?

And why did this affect him so much? He suddenly felt like a Krogan had sat on his chest. He had to pull it together, quickly, and press on. This was the worst time to even consider getting into thoughts like these.

“SAM… Please find out if Lockley’s widow is out of Cryo and has been notified. If not, make a note for me when we return to the Nexus.”

“Understood, Pathfinder.”

“We should go Ryder,” said Cora, as if sensing that this was difficult for him. “There’s no point in digging up old ghosts.”

“No, I…” he stopped and swallowed the knot that had formed in his throat. “ _We_ ,” he corrected, “need to know what happened here. It’s on us to make sure this kind of thing never happens again, and that their loved ones get closure.”

“Ok,” she nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say. They all knew that things had gone bad, that good people had died. All they could do now was push on and make sure their deaths had meant something.

He shook his head trying to clear it and push those thoughts back to the recesses of his mind. He activated the text log, bringing it up on the terminal screen:

_Login: Botany Consultant Alison May_

_What are you hiding Eos? The plants exhibit sporadic hyper-growth, despite an environment that can sandblast paint. I’m starting to suggest an electromagnetic trigger. I detected a signal of some kind, definitely alien, but that’s not my field. Uncertain if deliberate. Vector noted._

_[END LOG]_

“An alien electromagnetic signal.” he noted, uploading the data log to the Tempest database. “That must be the same as the signal SAM found.”

“That must be it then Ryder!” Suvi joined in excitedly. “I was wondering earlier about that tree you found. I couldn’t understand how this kind of flora could grow to such a size if the storms are as deadly and frequent as the reports state. Natural growth should be stunted in this environment.”

“So you think the alien technology might be enhancing and supporting plant growth?”

“I have no idea how, but that’s what I suspect.”

“That would be interesting…”

“It would absolutely fascinating. You’ve got to find those ruins!”

“We’re on it Suvi.”

He was considering the implications of something like that as he and the others spent a few more minutes poking around, to see if they could find anything else that was useful. If the alien tech could support plant growth in an environment like this it meant it was very powerful, and far-reaching. SAM had said there were ruins _just beyond Site 1_ , but there were no alien structures visible from here. So how could the effect possibly apply to plant life that far? It was something to keep in mind, as the answer might well be what they needed to make sense of all this.

*

They performed the same search in the next few buildings, looking for anything usable and making sure there were no nasty surprises hidden away, until they came upon a container.

_A large container._

Scott scanned it eagerly but all that came up on his scanner was “Storage Container”. He punched in his access code, and the keypad turned green as the door began lifting up.

It was like a slow dramatic reveal, and by the time it opened all the way Scott’s heart was thumping in his chest, and he looked inside eagerly.

The only way he could describe what was in the container was _the coolest, most sleek looking vehicle_ he’d ever seen. It looked like an off-road hybrid between a 4x4 car and a _tank_ , beautifully designed in white and black, with the words NOMAD ND-1 written on the side, and large tires for traversing tricky terrain. He smiled and activated his comms.

“Hey Gil?”

“What’s up Ryder?”

“I’m pretty sure I found the vehicle you were taking about” he said as he scanned it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1:  
> So, Eos, finally. The one thing that constantly surprises me ever since I started this is how easily and how often the story evolves and expands while I write it. Eos was planned to be one chapter at first, but it's now looking like two (possibly even three) and I wasn't planning to do that, it just... happened. I'm genuinely curious if it happens to others as well. If you write fic, let me know!
> 
> Note 2:  
> Thanks for all the support on the last chapter, especially for the understanding behind the reason behind the delay. And thanks to all of you for following along.
> 
> Note 3:  
> Next chapter is a brief return to Gil 's pov where he reconsiders some of the events that occurred recently.


	12. Engaging the brakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil has trouble concentrating on the things he should be doing. Instead he finds himself recounting the events of the past few days, and realizing that he has to cool it off a little.

It **was** here! The Nomad was actually here! As soon as Ryder had explained what their predicament with the terrain on Eos was, Gil had instantly thought of Kesh aboard the Nexus.

The ND1 Nomad was a one-of-a-kind-vehicle made for the Pathfinders to use, and having it vanish into thin air when most of their ships had been destroyed by the Scourge did not bode well for the Pathfinders. Kesh had been seriously **pissed** back then.

At first glance it seemed like the Nomad literally just disappeared. She’d suspected that Tann or Addison had had it scrapped for parts behind her back – like they’d planned to do to the Tempest – but since the Nomad was relatively small the parts wouldn’t be that useful to anyone. More importantly she hadn’t found any discrepancies on the Nexus records to prove it, so she’d grudgingly had to drop it. Nonetheless she’d always wondered what the hell happened to that thing. And now they knew.

When it first sprang to mind, Gil thought it was just wishful thinking on his part. But as the meeting with Ryder and the others went on he found himself entertaining the idea that the vehicle was here more and more by the minute. To start, it had gone missing at about the same time as the Site 1 mission had been launched from the Nexus. Kesh had considered this too of course, but she saw no reason why either Tann of Addison would decide to hide the fact that it was being used by the Site 1 team. If it had been scrapped for parts it made more sense that they’d hide it. Then again, no one aboard the Nexus had any idea what the conditions on Eos were like at the time.

So when Ryder explained, Gil brought up the specs on his Omnitool. The more he read about the vehicle, the more it sounded like the perfect fit for Eos (or any harsh environment really). But still, what were the chances? He’d decided to bring it up as a distant possibility to the Pathfinder, rather than say it in front of the whole team and get everyone disappointed.

Seems like the chances were higher than he thought. He looked at the top-level specs again:

  * Twin hydrogen-oxygen fuel cells powering an [Element Zero](http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Element_Zero) core
  * Iridium/Osmium coating for radiation shielding
  * Independent suspension for each wheel
  * Interchangeable four- or six-wheel drive
  * Rear fuel injection booster to propel forward
  * [Helium-3](http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Helium-3) microthrusters beneath the vehicle to blast upward.
  * High end QEC planetary surface scanner for valuable resources
  * Mining drones to harvest resources



Heh. Man, Kesh was gonna be pissed and relieved at the same time. That vehicle was literally the answer to their planet-scouting problems. Maybe things in Andromeda were turning around for them after all. Gil couldn’t help but feel some excitement at the thought.

From the looks of things, the Pathfinder felt the same right now. He’d entered the vehicle and started driving around right away, eager to give it a _test-drive_ , as he’d called it, even though it seemed as if he was playing _race car driver_ instead of testing anything.

“Whoo! This is great!” Ryder called out excitedly. Gil shook his head in mock disapproval, despite the grin on his face. He’d asked Ryder to bring the Nomad back to the Tempest so he could inspect it for faults and damage, and maintenance. According to Ryder there was no time for that. So SAM had offered to link the output of the Nomad’s computer systems to Gil’s Omnitool. That way he could at least monitor the performance and diagnostics of the vehicle. And Ryder had offered to give it a test drive before the others got on.

They could see the vehicle on the screen in the Tempest cockpit. Drifting, turning, accelerating handbraking… Well it was a **solid** test drive, he’d give him that.

Next to him, Lexi was also monitoring the output of Scott’s motor functions. She was shaking her head in genuine disapproval, and Gil stopped his smirk from becoming obvious.

“Adrenaline sky high again” she said. Kallo and Suvi were out of earshot, so only Gil had heard

“Again?”

“Never mind…” she said and waved a hand. Maybe she didn’t mean to say it out loud, or maybe she’d be breaking patient-doctor confidentiality if she explained, he wasn’t sure. “I swear, while this man is out there I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else…”

 _You and me both…_ he thought impatiently. The whole combat situation with the Kett had been incredibly stressful, and Gil wasn’t even near the action when it all went down.

As soon as he saw the alien take position he’d asked Kallo to zoom in on the camera feed. Both the setup and the type of gun were eerily similar to the sniper rifles back in the Milky Way. Having worked in an Alliance base alongside marines for so long Gil could recognize basic weapon types from a mile away. And alien tech aside, physics are physics, so a longer barrel and looking through a scope could only mean one thing.

So he’d warned Ryder. He’d fucking warned him that there was a sharpshooter and the guy even made a plan and shared it with everyone, but he still got shot right in the chest. It had made Gil’s heartrate spike. And once the whole scuffle was over, they couldn’t even see him since he was leaning against those goddamn cover points. But **no one** was asking if he was ok. Why the fuck was no one asking if **the Pathfinder** was ok?

So Gil had taken it upon himself.

“Ryder, are you ok?” he’d managed to utter, and the only things that came back were a wheeze followed by a few deep breaths. It took a great amount of mental fortitude to silently endure the next few seconds until finally Ryder confirmed that he was ok – and Gil felt like he could breathe again.

He tried to put that whole unpleasantness out of his mind. It was over, it was done, everyone was safe, everyone was fine. He very much wanted to put the Pathfinder out of his mind as well, and focus on the task at hand. But that was turning out to be increasingly difficult.

Since the events of _that morning,_ Gil had spent an awful lot of time thinking of the Pathfinder – way more than he’d intended to. But he couldn’t help it, whenever there was the smallest window of opportunity, his mind wandered back there.

_That morning…_

The memory itself was just a series of shocks and tests of his resilience. The amount of restraint he’d had to show to keep his poker face up that day had been on par with the toughest games he’d played in the gambling rings…

He’d just been enjoying a cup of coffee and reading a bit of his favourite series, just procrastinating from having to fix the fault with the Galley doors for a few more minutes. _Moiraine_ was warning _Rand_ about how dangerous balefire was to the pattern of creation itself, when the sound of the doors sliding open distracted him from the rest of the page.

The first bombshell of the day was seeing the doors open and the Pathfinder just standing there half-naked. Seeing his lean, muscular and well-defined physique, clearly that of a man trained for physical exertion. His strong shoulders were framing the creases around his chest, and the washboard abs reflected the soft-blue light from the bathroom as they held a little bit of the moisture that the tiny towel around his waist wasn’t large enough to collect.

 _And that towel…_ he swallowed. _That goddamn towel…_

His brain had stopped providing rational thought after witnessing such a sight first thing in the morning, so his eyes had found an excellent opportunity to go rogue and move down of their own accord. And damn was the Pathfinder **_packing_** _._ He didn’t get to see an outline exactly, as the man panicked and basically tripped over himself to get back to his quarters, but he had caught a very obvious bump that looked uncomfortable under the tyranny of the small towel.

Once he saw him fall through the doors there was complete silence, and after pulling himself out of the stupor of the shock he’d been genuinely worried. What if he’d hit his head? Should he call Lexi? Best to ask SAM through the comms.

But no, apparently Ryder had only hurt his knee a little and would eventually come out. Gil quickly put on the coffee machine again, then splashed his face with cold water and wiped it dry, trying to get his bearings. Even from a distance, he’d clearly recognized what Ryder had gone through, the poor man: Shock, panic, anxiety, embarrassment, shame. He felt _a little_ guilty, and _a lot_ like a perv, since his eyesight had gone straight for the man’s crotch thanks to that towel, so he’d make it as easy for Ryder as he could.

In the end, the Pathfinder had come out looking like a kicked puppy, and wanted to apologize **to Gil** for the situation. It was amusing and absurd at the same time.

Then… he’d flirted. With. The. **Pathfinder**. Twice. Of course, once wasn’t enough. No reason to give himself an out by being able to downplay it. He had to do it twice.

And after seeing the man blush and cursing himself inwardly thinking the guy was probably straight, he’d tried to trying to play it chill and change the subject. Then he got hit by the second bomb.

The Pathfinder flirted back!

 _One of my **many talents,**_ he’d said. And the inflection was almost certainly hiding a double meaning. It was almost like a verbal _wink._ The rest of the conversation after that was a little foggy. All he remembered was that at the end of it Ryder gave him a crooked smile that had made his pulse quicken a little.

He’d swiftly changed the subject to avoid doing something he’d really regret – like pinning the man against a wall right then and there. He’d crossed way too many lines already.

This attraction to the Pathfinder was dangerous territory. He had the hots for the man, no point denying that. He’d seen him half-naked, and the guy was so well-built, and Gil had leaned in way too close when trying to read his expression after that meeting, and if Ryder had leaned forward instead of back…

 _“No dammit, getting side-tracked again!”_ he thought, trying to stop his mind from wandering in that direction.

Ryder was hot. They’d flirted. The end. He’d gone a little overboard on his side, way more than he intended, so he’d have to pull it back. He wasn’t gonna be rude of course, just a little bit more passive. Ryder seemed like a really nice guy and he wanted to be friends with him. But that was where he’d draw the line. He’d simply avoid encouraging him from here on out.

He really missed Jill at times like these. If she was here she’d tell him he needed to get laid. His libido was affecting his critical thinking. It had been centuries after all, and it had already _felt_ like centuries even before they left the Milky Way, so now it was more like _millenia_.

He had no idea what she’d think of the Pathfinder. He wasn’t sure himself right now. That meeting, and the guy’s promise to the team _… It will all work out._ The most ludicrous thing about it was that he _actually_ believed what he was saying. Gil had studied his face very carefully. No nervousness, no fidgeting, no looking away. Just calm serenity, and… certainty. As bizarre as it was, he’d made Gil believe it too. It had been the first moment since coming to this damn galaxy that he’d actually felt relaxed. Calm. Safe.

_Safe…_

He’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how much a constant sense of impending doom was weighing on his mind. It had become part of the daily routine. Wake up, get to work, do your best, hope that you’ll get to wake up tomorrow to do the same. But during that moment, in their brief exchange and with Ryder’s certainty it was like his mind was freed from that burden. Like he could let his guard down and things might still be okay. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time.

 **“Gil?”** came a voice next to him, and his attention snapped back.

“Hmmm?” he said and blinked, his eyes focusing on the person next to him. Lexi. Of course, she was still there.

“The Pathfinder’s asked you something” she said and tapped her ear, to indicate the commlink.

“Sorry Pathfinder, could you repeat?”

“Yea, I said how were the test drive results? Anything to worry about?”

“Uhmm…” Gill muttered and quickly scrolled through the log entries. Shit, his mind had wandered off and he hadn’t been paying attention to the Omnitool. There were so many rows of text now, but nothing seemed to be flagged red. “Seems good so far. I’ll need a little more time to go through this but you can use the Nomad for now. _Carefully_ ” he added. He’d still have to check all the logs, retroactively. Fucking hell, this was not the time for daydreaming.

“Roger that. Vetra, Liam, hop on. Cora, as we discussed.”

“You sure you’re capable of driving this thing like a normal human?” Liam asked hesitantly.

“Of course, it drives fantastic,” said the Pathfinder nonchalantly, as the others jumped in.

Lexi was observing the live camera feed from the inside of the Nomad now, instead of her Omnitool’s output.

“D’ you think he’s gonna be ok?” she asked. It took Gil a moment to realize she was addressing him.

“What do you mean? He looks absolutely fine.” _In more ways than one_ , his brain added unhelpfully. He quickly squashed the thought.

“That’s exactly the thing though…” Lexi replied. “He’s just lost his father, who died to save **his** life. And his sister is in a coma for who knows how long. He’s just too…”

“Well…” Gil said, seeing what she was getting at. Lexi nodded.

“I think he’s stopped himself from grieving” she said.

“You’re probably right…”

He remembered the flash of hurt in the man’s eyes when he’d mentioned his father at their first meeting as clear as day. It was gone in a second but he’d seen it. Come to think of it, his conviction made some sense in that context. Failure was not an option not just because people relied on them, but because his father had given his life so that Ryder could be there. So he probably felt that the only thing he could do now was to make it count. Fuck, that was a sad thought.

“And the worst thing is that even though I can see it, there’s not much I can do to stop it.” Lexi added. “I can’t exactly tell him to drop the mission and take some time to mourn his father. He’s chosen to do this, and the truth is that we really need him to.”

Gil sighed. This line of thinking was disturbing, but understandable. It was like they were all using Ryder to get what they needed and were content to just put aside what that might do to the actual living person behind the role. But in the end it was also a conscious choice that Ryder had made himself, and they had to respect that. Plus, like Lexi said, they really needed him.

His mind went back to that _welcome aboard_ email that he’d sent. He’d dodged a bullet right there when he’d accused Ryder of not reading it. How could he have read it when Gil had sent it to Alec Ryder instead? Like the fool he was, he’d seen _Ryder_ and just added him to the list of recipients when he’d sent it out to everyone. Problem was that the first Ryder on the list was _Ryder A._ not _Ryder S._ Thankfully he’d kept his mouth shut so the Pathfinder hadn’t caught wind of who the email had actually gone to. He would have hated to add to the reminders of his father’s passing.

“How are **you** feeling?” Lexi asked. “You seem a little out of it today.”

Gil wasn’t expecting the spotlight to turn to him, so he was caught off guard again. Seemed like that was gonna be a theme lately.

“Aww are you worried about me doc? I’m deeply moved” he said and blinked puppy eyes at her. She looked back at him with a wry smile.

“I can see what you’re doing” she began, “But you don’t need to deflect with me Gil.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.” _Confused, a little worried, have the hots for our Pathfinder, and missing my buddy. But fine. I think._

“Ok _._ If that ever changes you know where I am. I’m not just here for Scott.”

“I will certainly keep that in mind” he said noncommittally.

Lexi nodded. “Good to hear. I’ll see you around” she said and began walking away towards the back of the ship.

“See you doc.”

That was… closer than he would have liked. Lexi had a keen eye, and he’d noticed it during the poker game yesterday.

They’d had a lot of fun then, with banter and conversation flowing casually and naturally, like they’d known each other for way more than a few days. It had been quite a while since Gil got to play with that many new people at once. Having to play the hands to allow for scouting as multiple tells as possible between Liam, Kallo and Lexi was a nice little challenge that he thoroughly enjoyed.

And between all three new players, Lexi was definitely the most… interesting. She was almost a complete newbie, but he could see her specifically judging and weighing other people’s expressions and reactions. She wouldn’t win against Gil of course since she had no experience in hiding her tells, or understanding his fake ones. But she had some potential.

Amongst the rest of the chatter, she’d said that she studied human and other species’ psychology for decades among her other medical subjects, so it made sense that she’d peg his (admittedly weak) attempt at deflection-with-humour right away. She might not be great at poker yet, but she was sharp. He’d have to be careful around her.

But he’d also been pretty bummed out when Ryder said he wasn’t going to join them. He might have made it harder for Gil to concentrate on the others, but there was no way Gil Brodie would let a pretty face ruin his legendary reputation and impeccable win rate. And he was genuinely interested to know more about the guy – in a friendly capacity, of course – so a few rounds of poker would’ve been ideal. Maybe he should suggest a game when they returned to the Nexus...

 _If,_ they returned to the Nexus.

_Mind wandering again… Right, gotta read through these logs._

He pulled up the logs and headed back to engineering to look through them in the company of the drive core’s soothing hum. One thing he could see was that his mind was all over the place recently, but he had no idea why.

No idea whatsoever…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1:  
> Work has been a bitch lately, and combined with some of the rl stuff lately a holiday is sorely needed. So I'm off abroad. Meaning we're gonna skip one posting period. Next chapter should be ready early July(ish), sooner if I get the time to do it justice.
> 
> Note 2:  
> Thank you all for following, reading, commenting. Feedback welcome as always.


End file.
